Still not Easy
by WhySoSerious1992
Summary: Sequel to Skuldalið. IM3, Thor 2, and Cap 2 complaint. After moving back to Malibu with her dad, Erika thinks life will go back to normal. She couldn't be more wrong. After the Mandarin attack, she and Tony move back to Manhattan, and Erika is reunited with her adopted Avengers family-and her blood relatives.
1. Chapter 1

**HELLO MY LOVELIES! It's been a while, but as promised, here is the Long-awaited sequel to my story Skuldalið. I've been working on this for a few months, and I think I have a substancial amout done that I can now start posting. I'll be uploading what I have as soon as I go over and edit everything.**

**Malibu, California, 1999—New Years Eve**

Nine year old Erika Stark sat with her dad's assistant on the couch, watching a Disney movie.

"Where's Daddy?" she asked in a quiet voice.

Her dad's assistant, Pepper, hugged her closer and ran her hand through Erika's hair. "Your dad had to go to Switzerland to talk to important people. He should be back tomorrow."

"Oh. Okay." She yawned.

"Okay, time for bed," said Pepper, turning the TV off.

"Not tired," the little girl mumbled.

Pepper smiled and scooped the child up in her arms and took her upstairs to her room. She tucked the little girl in and kissed her forehead. "Goodnight, Erika."

The mumbled, "Night, Momma," nearly broke Pepper's heart.

**Present Day**

Erika adjusted her violin for what seemed like the thousandth time, glancing at the sheet music in front of her. "Okay, let's try this again," she sighed, setting the instrument in place. She played a few notes, then delved right into the music.

Five minutes later, a pain in her left leg made her abruptly stop and grit her teeth, almost making her drop her violin.

"Damn it!" she cursed, setting the violin down with a huff and massaging her leg. She reached for her cane—polished black wood with a bronze Chinese dragon acting as the handle—and hoisted herself up from the couch, hobbling up to her bedroom for her pain medication.

"_Miss Stark, May I remind you that you have already consumed more than the recommended dosage of medication in the past two hours?" _J.A.R.V.I.S's voice sounded overhead.

"Don't care," Erika grunted. "Hurts."

Stupid pain meds. Stupid nerve damage. Stupid kidnapping terrorists with their stupid torture, and their stupid fucking—"

"_Miss Stark, you're rambling out loud, again."_

Erika flipped the AI off and popped two pills. "When's Dad gonna be back from lunch with Rhodey?" she asked tiredly. "I wanna do more tests."

The cane only got her so far, so Tony had offered to build her a brace with a built-in numbing agent to help her get around easier. He'd been doing a lot of building, lately—her brace and the Mark 42 were only a few of the many projects he had going.

Tony hasn't been sleeping well, and he's had a lot of people worried about him. Erika wondered if the stress from dying in the wormhole and being scared back to life was finally catching up with him.

"_Sir is expected to return from his meeting with Colonel Rhodes in approximately one hour. However, due to a recent anxiety attack, he is now en route back to the house."_

Erika choked on the water she was using to take her pills. "Panic attack? _Him?_"

"_Yes, Ma'am."_

"Shit."

When Tony got home, Erika confronted him down in his workshop. "What's this I hear about a panic attack?" she asked, hobbling through the glass doors of the workshop.

Tony disengaged the suit and tried his best to look normal. "What? What attack? I don't know what you're talking about," he said quickly, sitting at a workbench and pulling up a hologram. "Hey, let's work on that brace of yours, yeah?"

Erika sighed. "Dad, don't deflect—J.A.R.V.I.S said you freaked out during your lunch with Rhodey. What happened?"

Tony sighed. "It's nothing, alright? I t was a fluke. I'm fine. Brace. Now. Please."

Erika shook her head. "Fine, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Erika held up her badge the minute she approached the Stark Industries building and had Happy in her sights. "Where's Pepper?" she asked, making her way to where he stood.

"She's in a meeting with someone. I don't like the look of him," said Happy, watching the glass doors from a distance.

Pepper came out with a tall blond man in a suit and Erika's immediate thought was "Hell No' when she saw him kiss pepper's cheek. She never took her eyes off of him until he was in a black SUV and Happy took a picture of the car. "You're right," she said. "I don't like him."

Happy moved to get Pepper and tell her that her car was ready. "Erika," said Pepper. "What are you doing here?" She moved to hug the younger girl.

"Just here to give you a head's up—there's something at home for you, and I swear it wasn't my idea," said Erika.

She almost laughed when they got home and pepper saw the rabbit, and she really did laugh when they came in and the Mark 42 was sitting on the couch.

"I'll leave you two alone," said Erika, wandering down the hall to her room. She didn't want to be Tony when Pepper found out the Mark 42 was walking around without Tony in it.

Later, when she came out to the kitchen to get a glass of water (more pain meds), she was surprised to see Pepper coming down the stairs in her pajamas, looking upset.

"What's wrong?' Erika asked, immediately thinking the worst. "Is something wrong with Dad? Did he have another freak-out?"

Pepper gave her an incredulous look. "So you knew about his trouble sleeping? Why am I the last to know?" she sighed, looking tired.

Erika gave her a sheepish look. "I caught him dozing in his lab. I was happy to see him sleeping, but then the freak-out started." Erika sighed and leaned heavily against her cane. "I'm scared, Pepper—I don't know how to help him."

Pepper gathered her in a hug and held her.

**A/N: There's chapter one. Hope you like it!**


	2. Chapter 2

**So, this should run pretty IM3 compliant. This is unbeta'd, so All mistakes are mine**

* * *

The Mandarin.

A terrorist.

A man who got his rocks off by bombing innocent people. He bombed the Chinese Theater, and Happy got caught in the blast.

Erika went with Tony to visit Happy in the hospital, and she looked just as angry as Tony did when they stepped out of the hospital to all the members of the press.

"We're awaiting the arrival of Tony Stark. We're hoping he'll give us his reaction to the latest attack," Erika heard a woman say just as she and Tony stepped out of the building.

'Here we go,' she thought, and then the onslaught began.

"Mr. Stark! Our sources are telling us that this is another Mandarin attack. Anything else you can tell us?" One woman asked as she and other reporters crowded Tony on the way to his car, Erika hot on his heels.

"Hey Mr. Stark! When is somebody gonna kill this guy?" some jerk with an iphone asked.

Erika repressed a groan. Great.

Tony turned around, and he was _pissed._ "Is that what you want?" he asked tensely. "Here's a little holiday greeting I've been wanting to send to the Mandarin. I just didn't know how to phrase it until now."

Erika cringed. "Don't do anything stupid, Dad," she muttered, but she was ignored. She could only watch in horror as Tony gave the whole world their home address and basically told the Mandarin 'come and get me.'

"Why would you do that?" she asked when they got home? "I can't believe you! There's a NUTCASE out there, and you just _give him our address_. What the hell, Dad?"

"Relax, I've got it handled," was all he said before disappearing into his lab.

"Yeah, great," Erika muttered. She really didn't want to deal with this right now, so she went up to her room. "I'm just gonna go pack my stuff," she called down the stairs.

She got no reply.

Erika sighed and wandered to her room, flopping down on the mattress, her cane clattering to the floor.

She missed New York. She missed the Avengers. She missed her brothers.

She missed her family.

'Mom would have ripped him a new one,' Erika though, and then she drifted off in an uneasy sleep.

Pepper was pissed when she found out what Tony did, and they argued for a long time over whether or not to leave for a while. Tony didn't want to, and he said so multiple times, before saying he had work to do and going down to his lab.

"Start packing," Pepper told Erika. "We're leaving."

Right as Erika finished packing a bag, the doorbell rang.

"Seriously?" Erika muttered, grabbing her cane and wandering out to the living room.

The Mark 42 was intercepting an unfamiliar brunette woman at the door. "Weird time for guests," said Erika, looking the woman up and down. "Who's your friend?" she asked just as Pepper's bags dropped from the floor below.

"Tony, is somebody there?" Erika heard Pepper ask as she came down the stairs.

"Yeah, it's Maya Hansen," said Tony, walking towards the stairs. "Old botanist pal that I used to know, barely." He turned back to the woman—Maya—and said, "Please don't tell me there's a 12-year-old kid waiting in the car I've never met."

Erika snorted. Great—one of his old one-night stands. That's just what they needed.

"He's 13," said Maya, and Tony's eyes widened comically before Maya said, "No, I need your help."

Tony didn't look happy about her little scare. "What for? Why now?"

"Because I read the papers, and, frankly, I don't think you'll last the week."

They went back and forth, and then Pepper started in on the conversation, and then Tony and Pepper started arguing.

Erika was just about to lay into Maya and ask her what the hell she needed from Tony, but the brunette was looking distractedly at the TV.

"Guys . . . do we, um . . . . ." started Maya. "Do we need to worry about that?" she asked, pointing to the TV, which showed that there was a missile headed right for them, and Erika had exactly two seconds to panic before the whole house shook and she and Maya went flying.

More explosions rocked the house, and her vision was swimming. The Mark 42 grabbed Maya and hauled her up, and then grabbed Erika and pulled her up, too. They stumbled along and Erika realized when the repulsers weren't working that _Pepper was in the suit_. They managed to get out, but then if Pepper was in the suit wh_ere was Tony?_

"Dad!" Erika called out weakly, struggling to get up, and she screamed when she saw their home was collapsing,

"_**DAD!"**_

Erika shot to her feet, ignoring her leg's protests, and she did her best to run back to the house. "_**DAD!"**_

"Erika_**, no!"**_

Erika barely heard Pepper, and she almost fell when the Mark 42 whizzed past her towards the wreckage in front of her.

"_**DAD!"**_

"Erika, get out!" Tony roared, the Mark 42 attaching itself to him, and that was the last thing he said before he fell into the ocean with the rest of the crumbling structure.

"_**NO! DAD!"**_

No, no, no nonononNO_**NO!**_

She was barely aware of Pepper grabbing her and holding her back from diving in after Tony. She sagged in Pepper's arms, sobbing.

He was gone.

* * *

"Pepper, it's me. I've got a lot of apologies to make and not a lot of time, so first off. I'm so sorry I put you in harm's way. That was selfish and stupid and it won't happen again. Also, it's Christmas time. The rabbit's too big. Done. Sorry. And I'm sorry in advance because . . . I can't come home yet. I need to find this guy. You gotta stay safe. That's all I know. You and Erika, you gotta stay safe for me. Tell her . . . tell her I'm sorry, and I'll be home as soon as I can."

". . . "

"I just stole a poncho from a wooden Indian."

* * *

The press were having a field day.

While firefighters and paramedics crowded the site of Tony's wrecked home, everyone was already speculating what had happened to Iron Man.

He was being presumed dead.

Erika was numb.

She'd lost him. She'd lost him _again_, and he wasn't coming back.

First Loki, then her siblings, and now Tony.

She was crying when Pepper found her, and when she told Erika Tony was alive and let her hear his message, she cried even harder with relief.

"I need to leave with Maya," Pepper told her. "I need you to get somewhere safe." She pressed a plane ticket into Erika's hands, along with a folded slip of paper. "Go to this address, alright? I need to keep you safe."

Erika looked down at the ticket, and then she looked at the address.

Who the hell did Pepper know that lived in _Iceland?_

* * *

The address Pepper had given her was for a really nice apartment building. Whoever lived here was up in the penthouse.

She still didn't know who lived here.

Adjusting her grip on her cane, Erika hobbled over to the elevator, dragging her suitcase behind her. She got a few funny looks from the people in the elevator when she pushed the button for the penthouse. She ignored them, though, and exited the elevator, stopping in front of the door with the right apartment number on it. She knocked three times and waited.

She didn't recognize the man that answered at first.

He was tall and pale, with sharp features, short black hair, and eyes the color of sea glass, dressed in a gray Henley and really nice sweatpants.

He looked surprised to see her, and said in a voice and a language she hadn't heard in over two years, "_How in the Nine Realms did you find me?"_

Erika swallowed back the sudden sting in her throat.

"_Jormungand?"_

* * *

**A/N: Okay, show of hands, and be honest—who saw that coming?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Jor's back! Yay!**

**Pepper and Tony belong to Marvel. Erika belongs to me, and Jormungand kind of belongs to me, but not really.**

* * *

"Holy shit," Erika breathed. "She found you. She actually _found you_!" She laughed and surged forward, dropping her luggage and cane and grabbing her brother around the middle, openly crying. "I thought I'd never see you again," she sniffed. "You left, and we were all _so worried."_

Jormungand snorted. "_I highly doubt that. Come in, if you must,"_ he said, prying her arms off of him and turning to go back inside.

Erika smiled and grabbed her things, moving slowly into the apartment. "Nice place," she said, leaving her suitcase by the door and taking a few steps forward. She noticed Jormungand was frowning at her cane, and she tapped her leg once with it lightly. "Kidnappers, about a year ago, remember? They did a number on me—nerve damage in my leg means I'll never walk like a normal person again."

Jormungand sighed and offered her his arm. She took it, and they walked over to the big leather couch in the middle of the room. He sat her down, and then went to the kitchen. He returned with a steaming mug of something.

"Why are you here_?"_ he asked, and Erika belatedly realized he hadn't been speaking English earlier.

Erika sipped her drink—tea, she realized. "Have you heard of the Mandarin?" she asked shakily.

Jormungand nodded. "Only briefly."

"He attacked Dad, and now Dad's MIA, and Pepper went off somewhere and told me to come here—I had no idea where here was, and I don't know how she found you . . . . I'm glad she did." She looked up cautiously at her brother.

He looked different, yet at the same time she could see traces of her brother in this new face.

"Why did you leave?"

Jormungand sighed. "I truly am sorry—I couldn't stay there. Not after . . . . ." he trailed off, shaking his head. "Apologies. I've moved on, for the most part, but it still hurts sometimes, to think about it."

Erika patted the space beside her. Jormungand sat down, and she leaned against him.

"He was worried about you, too, you know," she said quietly. "We all were." A pause, then she let out a snort that turned into a giggle. "I slapped him, when I found your note. I _slapped Captain America,_ right across that stupid chiseled face of his."

Jormungand chucked.

A high-pitched wail from the other room made Jormungand groan. "Not now," he muttered, hauling himself up and leaving the room.

"That sounded like a kid," said Erika after Jormungand's retreating form. "Why is there a kid here?"

Silence.

"Jormungand?" Erika grabbed her cane and hauled herself up, moving towards the wailing. She got to the doorway and stopped dead.

"Holy shit."

Jormungand was holding a baby—a little boy with golden hair, only a few years old, by the look of it. Jormungand held him close, crooning a lullaby in his language and swaying back and little boy stopped fussing and cuddled into Jormungand's chest, falling asleep almost instantly. Jormungand placed him back inside of cot and kissed the top of his head. "There we go," he murmured. He motioned for Erika to leave the room, and he followed her out.

"That's . . . is that . . . ?" Erika began, trailing off.

"My son," said Jormungand, not looking at Erika as he passed her. "That's all you need to know. Come—we'll get you settled."

* * *

Pepper wasn't answering her phone.

Erika paced Jormungand's living room, waiting for Pepper's message to end so she could leave another message. "Hey, Pepper, it's me again. Is everything okay? I've left you, like, a thousand messages. Please call me back." She hung up the phone and sighed, plopping down on the couch.

Jormungand was in the kitchen with his son—she still didn't know his name. He came out cradling the little one on his hip, holding a bottle in his other hand.

"Erik."

Erika looked up. "What?"

Jormungand sat down on the couch next to Erika. "Erik Steven Jorson-Rogers. That's his name."

Erika blinked. "You named your kid after me?" She asked quietly. "Jesus, Jor, you're gonna make me cry."

"Please don't," Jormungand said tiredly. "I couldn't think of any other names—it was the best fit, anyway."

Erika sniffed, smiling, then her eyes grew wide. "Erik Jorson . . . Rogers? So he _is _Steve's?" She blinked. "_How?"_

Jormungand scoffed. "How is _my_ father _your_ mother?" he shot back.

". . . . Fair point."

* * *

Tony was strapped to a metal bedframe.

He had no suit, no weapons, and no way out.

Plus he was still trying to figure out what happened to the second mouse.

"Think about it," Killian goaded him. "Extremis is a _healing_ factor. We take broken people, and we make them whole. That pretty little daughter of yours could walk like a normal person again."

Killian was lucky Tony didn't have his suit, or the guy would be a smear on the wall.

* * *

Tony called her a few days later.

"Oh my god, are you guys okay?" Erika asked immediately. "I saw the thing about the Mandarin being arrested—where's Pepper? Why haven't either one of you called me back. For Christ's sake, I thought you were dead until Pepper played that message! What the Hel is going on?"

"_Everything's fine,"_ Tony reassured her. "_I'm fine, and so is Pepper. It's safe to come home, by the way—everything's been take care of."_ A pause, then, _"We're thinking about going back to New York. Does that sound okay?"_

Tony couldn't see her, but she nodded anyway. "Yeah, sure—as long as everyone's fine, I'm fine with that."

"_Good. Hey, you mind telling Bean Pole to let me in? I'm getting weird looks out here."_

Erika blinked. "What? You're _here?" _she asked, already heading towards the door and flinging it open hard enough it almost cracked the wall, much to Jormungand's dismay. Erika hung up her phone before dropping it, gaping.

"You look like _shit_," she said before tackling him. "Oh god, you're here, you're safe, I knew you were okay but I was still freaked out and—"

"Hey, hey, it's alright," said Tony, holding her close. "I'm fine—a little stiff from my flight, but other than that, I'm good."

Erika let out a choked laugh that turned into a sob. "Please never do that again—I had no idea where you were."

"Hmm, in a little run-down house in Tennessee with a brat named Harley, for the most part," said Tony.

Erika didn't even ask.

* * *

**A/N: like it? Hate it? Lemme know :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Jor, Erika, and Erik belong to me. Everyone else belongs to Marvel.**

**I love Bruce's scene in the end of IM3. It made me smile :)**

* * *

Jormungand declined the invitation back to New York.

"My life is here now," he said, smiling down fondly at his son.

Tony offered Jormungand his hand. "Well, if you're ever in the neighborhood, look us up—we'll be in the big building with the A on the side."

Jormungand smiled genuinely at Tony for the first time since meeting him, and shook his hand firmly. "Thank you, Anthony Stark."

"Tony, please," said Tony.

Jormungand laughed. "Alright—Tony, then. Thank you, Tony." He held up his son and kissed the blond boy's head. "Say goodbye, Erik," Jormungand murmured.

The boy ducked his head shyly, looking at Tony and Erika out of the corner of his eyes.

* * *

Harley came home from school to find his entire workspace upgraded, and he smiled as he handled the Potato Gun Mark II. His mom was home from work, but had to leave again in an hour, and his sister was over at her friend's house.

When he went into the house, there was a knock at the door. His mom answered it, and a woman with blonde and brown hair stood on their porch, wearing a gray sweater and jeans and leaning on a cane. "Hi, are you Mrs. Keener?" the woman asked his mom.

His mom nodded. "Yes—what can I do for you?"

The woman held out her hand. "My name is Erika Stark, and I'd actually like to take this opportunity to talk to you about a job working with Stark Industries."

She was invited inside and Harley watched her from a distance, wary of her. Was she really offering his mom a job?

They talked for a few minutes, and Harley's mom was so happy she started crying. She kept saying 'thank you' over and over again, and then she beckoned Harley over. "Harley, this is Miss Stark—she's offering me a better job."

Harley looked her up and down. "Stark, huh? Any relation to Tony Stark?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Erika smiled at him. "Yeah, he's my dad."

Before she left, when Harley's mom wasn't looking, Erika beckoned him over and pulled him in a gentle hug. "Thank you for looking out for him," she said quietly to a stunned Harley, who only nodded. "If you ever need anything at all, give me a call."

She left the house, and Harley had never seen his mom so happy as they sat together and planned their new future.

* * *

Bruce sighed tiredly as Tony said something about having a nanny at age 14. "Seriously, Tony, I don't have the temperament for this," he muttered. "I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me all this, but . . . ."

"Is he _still_ talking?" Erika asked as she hobbled into the room, a tray with a tea set balanced in her unoccupied hand. "Here, Dr. Banner—I figured you could use it."

Bruce stood up immediately and moved to take the tray from her, setting it down on the coffee table. "Thanks. You're right—I needed this."

Erika laughed.

Tony frowned. "Are you two ganging up on me?" he asked, accusation clear in his voice.

Erika rolled her eyes. "No, Dad, but using The Hulk as your own personal therapist isn't one of your smarter moves—no offense, Dr. Banner," she said kindly.

Bruce only smiled and shook his head. "Please call me Bruce—Dr. Banner's a little formal, don't you think?"

Erika sighed dramatically. "Fine, _Bruce_," she said, then softer, she said, "It's good to have you back with us."

Bruce smiled gently at her. "Honestly, It's good to be back—I missed you guys."

Erika bit her lower lip and looked down at the floor, then looked up at Bruce from underneath her eyelashes. "We missed you, too," she said quietly. Then, louder, she said, "Didn't we, Daddy?"

Tony grinned. "Of course I missed him! We're Science Bros!"

Erika snorted out a laugh and Bruce raised an eyebrow.

It was good to know that things were back to normal.

* * *

**A/N: The Science Bros are reunited, and it feels so good!**


	5. Chapter 5

**I had this written about a month ago in a notebook, but I just recently typed it up to add to this. Again, This is unbeta'd, so any mistakes are mine.**

**These versions of Jor and his siblings are mine, and so are Erika and Erik. The rest belong to Marvel.**

* * *

It wasn't so bad being so far away, Jormungand decided. It had been three years and he was doing fine on his own, thank you very much. His little Erik had just passed his second birthday. They'd had a quiet night in with cake and ice cream, and Jormungand had given him his present early—they'd gone to the nearest store and his son had selected a blue blanket with Captain America shields all over its fuzzy surface.

Irony could be cruel.

Jormungand was currently in the process of contemplating his son in a small red white and blue uniform when Fenrir appeared in his living room.

"I see that unkempt nest you call hair has made a glorious return," said Jormungand, not even batting an eye at his brother's sudden appearance.

Fenrir snorted. "And all yours has fallen out."

Jormungand smiled ruefully, pushing a hand through his short hair. "It's good to see you, Fenrir," he admitted. "Though, am I to assume this isn't a social call?"

Fenrir jerked his head to the side. "No use avoiding it; I have contacts in Asgard. They've told me the Dark Elves invaded the Golden City."

Jormungand snorted. "Dark Elves? Really?"

"They search for the Ether," said Fenrir, sighing heavily. "The Allmother is dead."

Jormungand paled.

"She fell protecting the Ether's host—a mortal woman our uncle calls 'Beloved.'"

Jormungand swallowed.

His and his siblings' time in Asgard was not looked back on fondly—their only solace had been their father and their grandmother. Now Loki was imprisoned and Frigga was dead.

"I'm journeying to Asgard to pay my respects," Fenrir continued quietly—as quiet as Jormungand had ever heard him.

"I'll go with you," said Jormungand tiredly. "Just give me time to find a sitter."

Fenrir frowned. "Sitter?" Only then did he notice the sleeping toddler on the couch. Fenrir didn't hear Jormungand's conversation over the phone—he stared at the sleeping boy, then looked back to his brother.

No matter what any others said, Fenrir wasn't stupid.

"You had the Captain's child."

"Yes, and I refuse to let him set one toe in Asgard—they'd tear him apart," sighed Jormungand, picking up the boy. "His name is Erik, if you care to know."

Fenrir said nothing at first, then he offered, "He looks like you."

Jormungand snorted, giving his brother a genuine smile. "No, he doesn't, but thank you for making an effort."

* * *

Jormungand had no choice but to leave Erik with Erika, since Erik's normal sitters were busy. Erika had readily agreed to watch him, and she already had her floor of Stark Tower toddler-proofed by the time they arrived.

"Don't worry, I've got it under control," Erika promised, reaching her free arm out for her nephew.

Jormungand hesitated.

Erika sighed, and her arm dropped. "Seriously, Jor, I can do this. I'll take good care of him." She paused, then with a serious look she said, "On my honor, I Erika Maria Stark-Lokadottir, swear to you, Jormungand Lokison that no harm will come to your son, Erik Steve Rogers-Jorson, while he is in my care." She smiled. "I promise."

Jormungand set the toddler down and gave him a gentle nudge in Erika's direction, saying, "_Go with your aunt Erika," _in his native language. _"I'll be back shortly."_

Erika smiled down at Erik. "Hey, Buddy. Can you understand me?"

Erik stayed quiet, but nodded shyly after looking back at Jormungand.

Erika smiled. "That's great. We're gonna have a lot of fun together, okay?" She held out her hand. "You wanna watch a movie?"

Jormungand watched as his son took a few hesitant steps forward. "Thank you, Erika," he said as his sister too his son's hand and led him over to a large couch. "I'll return shortly."

Erika nodded. "Oh!" she exclaimed suddenly, rushing off to the other side of the room. She picked up a beautiful arrangement of flowers. "Would this survive the trip? I wanted to do something for her, since I'm on babysitting duty. Can you, like, put it in an inter-dimensional pocket, or something, and make sure they don't get messed up?"

Jormungand waved his hand and the flowers vanished.

The last words Jormungand heard before leaving were, "Come on, Buddy, nothing says bonding like a Disney movie marathon!"

* * *

Erik was a sweet kid, Erika decided. He was quiet and polite, and he seemed to be okay with whatever Erika picked for them to do—TV, movies, coloring, Legos—Lord Almighty did this kid love Legos; she showed him the Lego Movie and he _lost his mind_.

Someone came up to her floor and she called out a warning. "Watch out, it's a Lego Minefield!"

It was just Tony. "Jeez, what blew up?" he asked, looking around the room.

Erika looked around her, amidst a sea of Legos. "Okay, so I overdid it—but look how happy he is!" she cooed, watch Erik as he constructed a multicolored city all around her. She looked up at Tony. "What's up?"

Tony gestured towards her leg. "How's the brace?"

Erika beamed and rapped her knuckles against her bad leg, the brace making a metallic noise. "Pretty good—almost no pain today, and I managed to get on the floor!"

"Good. That's good. Okay. I'll just . . . . leave now."

Erika's smile faltered. "O-oh. Okay."

Tony never spent much time with Erika as a child, and he always felt guilty about that. After Loki left, they never did father-daughter things—tea parties, dolls, ballerina, that sort of thing. Watching his grown daughter sitting amongst a pile of toys made Tony's chest ache, and he sighed heavily before picking his way through the mess.

"Fine, but don't be mad when my buildings come out better-looking. Here, scoot," he waved his arms, and Erika happily scooted.

* * *

Fenrir and Jormungand were technically free from their imprisonment, but that did not make them welcome in Asgard—especially while they were rebuilding after the Dark Elves attack. Hela was waiting for them with a human Sliepnir. They said nothing, all of them heading for Frigga's garden. In the center stood a magnificent cherry blossom tree, flowers surrounding the base.

"Do you think she would have like it?" Sliepnir asked hesitantly, motioning towards the tree. "I remembered she liked cherries."

Hela gave her brother a hug. "She would have loved it."

Jormungand waved his hand and Erika's flowers appeared among the others. "A gift from our sister on Midgard," was all he said.

Lady Frigga had been a wonderful queen and grandmother, and they were all going to miss her.

"I hope the bastard that did this rots in Hel," Fenrir snarled.

Hela snorted. "_I_ don't want him."

"Is she in Valhalla?" asked Sliepnir quietly.

Jormungand nodded. "Fenrir was told she died an honorable death, and she is not in Hela's realm—she feasts with her ancestors."

Sliepnir paused, then asked, "Will _we_ ever be allowed to see it?" To see _her_?

Nobody knew how to answer him, so they remained silent, and they stayed there for a long while, keeping vigil over the grave of one of the only ones who had ever accepted them.

"I'm taking Erik to New York," said Jormungand before they parted ways. "Anthony Stark has extended invitations to each of you, as well." He looked at his siblings. "I would like Erik to know his family—please consider it."

* * *

**A/N: Now, more than ever, Jor wants his boy to know his family.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Captain America time! Yay!**

**Seriously, The Winter Soldier is a really good movie, I really enjoyed it.**

* * *

"On your left," Steve called, passing the other jogger for the third time. The runner didn't look happy.

Later, when he introduced himself to the man—Sam Wilson—and added Sam's recommendation to his book, he couldn't help but think of how well Sam would get along with Clint and Tony.

Natasha pulled up in a sleek black car. "Hey boys, do you know where the Smithsonian is? I'm here to pick up a fossil."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Funny," he deadpanned, saying bye to Sam.

Steve was glad he still had Natasha in his life—she was a good friend.

* * *

"Was that your first kiss since 1945?" Natasha asked in the car after the Mall.

Steve gripped the steering wheel tighter. "You know it wasn't."

Natasha looked out the window. "Right. Sorry. I forgot."

Steve wished he could forget. He was tired of thinking about pale skin and long, dark hair, and a razor sharp smile that made Steve's heart race.

* * *

Steve was going after Bucky and Sam was going with him.

When they finally found Steve's friend, it wasn't pretty. Words were said, blood was spilled, but it ended with Bucky sobbing in Steve's arms with Sam watching quietly.

* * *

They needed a safe haven—somewhere Bucky could recuperate, adjust to his new freedom.

Okay, so maybe going back to Manhattan wasn't Steve's best plan, but with S.H.I.E.L.D. gone there were so few people Steve could trust.

Natasha met back up with them on the way and Steve introduced her to Bucky, who was still skittish. On the way to New York, he warmed up to her, though only slightly—he recognized another broken soul when he saw one.

Tony welcomed them back—of course he did; he'd been torn apart when the Avengers disbanded (though he'd never admit it).

If Steve had known who else was staying there, though, he just might have stayed away.

* * *

Erika was beyond excited that the Avengers were coming back together. She'd missed them, and being back in New York felt like coming home, in a way.

She was just . . . . nervous.

Jormungand had been in Iceland for almost three years now, and he had his own mini Steve he was taking care of—how would big Steve react to the news that he was a daddy?

Steve and Natasha arrived at the Tower an hour before Erika's siblings were due to arrive, and they weren't alone—Steve had made new friends in Washington, apparently.

"Hi," Erika greeted the newcomers. "I'm Erika." She shook hands with the tall black guy, who introduced himself as Sam Wilson. When she reached out for the other guy's hand, he flinched.

"Uh, Erika, this is Bucky," Said Steve quickly, stepping up next to the brunet. "Bucky, this is Tony Stark's daughter; remember I told you about her?"

Bucky swallowed and gave Erika a tight 'ma'am' before scurrying off to his assigned room.

"O-kayyy," said Erika, watching Bucky leave. She looked back at Steve. "Right. Okay. Not sure this is something you wanna hear right after you just got here but . . . . You're not the only ones moving back in."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, I kinda figured as much when I met up with Clint and Bruce at the airport."

Erika bit her bottom lip. "That's . . . . not exactly what I mean." Before she could clarify any more, a flash of green light left them momentarily blinded. When the spots cleared from her vision, Erika's face lit up. "Hey! Wow, you guys are a little early, actually," she said, moving quickly to stand in front of the group of four (five if you count Erik) now standing in Stark Tower's lobby. "So, your rooms are all the same, Sliepnir, I've got a room picked out for you, and you and I can go shopping later for normal clothes. Oh, and before I forget, I gotta know—Hela, who's watching your realm?"

The dark-haired woman smiled. "My army's general is a competent leader. He'll look after things while I'm on holiday."

Erika nodded. "Right. Yes. Good." She turned back to Steve and gave him a nervous smile. "This is the 'other people' I was talking about . . . . . my siblings are gonna be staying here for a while, so . . . . yeah."

Hela gave Steve a tight smile. "Always a pleasure, Captain," she said cooly, sauntering past Steve. Fenrir and Sliepnir followed her, and neither one of them looked happy to see Steve—Sliepnir was outright glaring, though Steve couldn't even really remember meeting him, let alone do something that warranted that nasty of a glare.

A small huff made him turn back around to face a man shorter than him with short black hair and sharp cheekbones—Jormungand.

"I'll, um, leave you two alone," Erika muttered, wandering away and pulling a confused Sam with her saying, "Steve can explain later."

"Ignore them, please," said Jormungand after a moment, referring to the others. "If I can let go of my anger at you, so can they."

"They're mad at me?" A beat, then. "Wait, you're mad at me? Wait, no, nevermind, I know why you're angry at me."

Jormungand smiled. "_Was_ angry—past tense. I came to realize you were right—I would have burned the world for you. That's . . . . not healthy. It's fine, though." He shifted, and Steve saw a small boy with blond hair peek out from behind Jormungand's legs. "I found something else to live for. Steven, this is Erik._ Erik, koma segja halló við föður þinn,"_ said Jormungand, picking up the boy, and Steve understood at least one word in that.

"_Halló, faðir,"_ The boy said in a small voice, peering up at Steve with bright blue eyes.

Steve swallowed. "Why does he look like me?"

Jormungand 'tsk'd. "Come now, don't play dumb. Surely you're familiar with genetics."

"But you're—"

"Not human," Jormungand reminded him. "My body isn't held by standard male restrictions." Jormungand let out a small huff of air. "Apologies; if I'd known you were coming back, I would not have subjected you to this." _I would not have subjected myself to this_ was left unsaid. "The boy and I will keep our distance."

Steve frowned. "What? Why?"

It was Jormungand's turn to frown. "I'm sorry, I just assumed—"

"Yeah, well you assumed wrong. I have a son, and a responsibility to be there for him when he needs me. I'm not saying you haven't been a good parent," he said quickly at Jormungand's cold look. "I'm just saying . . . . I'd like to help."

Jormungand was speechless for a moment. He gave Steve the most heartfelt gaze Steve had ever seen. "I've missed you," he said quietly.

Steve swallowed. "Yeah," was all he could say, because he didn't think he was ready to say _I missed you, too._

* * *

**A/N: I'm a evil, evil person. The plot, she thickens!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Sam, Steve, Bucky, and all other recognizable characters belong to Marvel. The rest are mine to do with as I please.**

* * *

Steve found Sam later, and the Falcon demanded an explanation to why Erika Stark had practically shoved him out of the room when _four people and a toddler just appeared in the living room._

Steve sighed. "How much do you know about Loki?" he asked.

Sam frowned. "Crazy alien who invaded Manhattan? Not much. Is he that actual Norse God of Mischief and Lies, or is that just a shtick?"

Steve sighed again. "No, he's the actual god of Mischief. He was staying in Stark Tower a few years back, but he was taken back to Asgard—the land he and his brother are from. So, you know Loki is the god of Lies. What else do you know?"

"Again, not much," Sam admitted. "Although, I read something about a horse on Wikipedia . . . ."

_Oh, boy_. "Okay, I should probably start from the beginning. Everything started not long after the Manhattan Invasion . . . ."

* * *

Steven's friend kept staring at Jormungand, and it was starting to unnerve him. "What?" He finally snapped one morning over breakfast.

"Can you really turn into a giant snake?" The man asked him without preamble.

Everyone froze.

"Sam," Steve hissed. "Not the best timing."

Jormungand raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I can, now will you please stop staring at me like I'm a roast pig at a Luau?"

Clint snorted and Steve shot him a look.

* * *

Bucky hadn't meant to interrupt them. He'd been looking for Steve, and instead he found a woman and a little boy playing with Legos.

A little boy who was the spitting image of Steve.

The woman looked up and smiled hesitantly, giving him a half-wave before going back to building Legos. The little boy looked up at him and asked in Icelandic, "_Do you want to play?"_

Bucky started. "_No, thanks,"_ he replied hoarsely, wondering who the hell this kid was and _why he looked like his best friend_. Was this woman his mother? Had Steve slept with her?

"I'm not his mom, if that's what you're thinking" said the woman—Erika, Bucky remembered. "I'm his aunt. The really tall pale guy with cheekbones you could cut glass with is his mom. Er, dad, I mean," she added quickly.

_He looks like Steve._

"Yeah, I know," said Erika, and Bucky realized he'd said that out loud. "Ask Steve about it, if you want to know—it's not my story to tell."

Bucky left the room without another word.

* * *

"Why is there a kid that looks like you?" were the first words out of Bucky's mouth when Steve saw him again.

Steve groaned. Right. There was someone else he owed an explanation to. "What do you know about the attack on Manhattan?"

Several minutes and a long, grueling explanation later, Bucky sat there, blinking. Finally, he said something.

"You're shitting me."

"Actually, he's not."

Bucky was out of the chair and had Sam pinned to the wall in the blink of an eye. He dropped Sam once he realized what he'd done. _"Don't sneak up on me,"_ he hissed, slinking back to his chair.

Sam coughed and rubbed his neck. "Sorry, Man," he wheezed. "Forgot."

Steve had shot up to get Bucky to let go, but relaxed when his friend did that on his own. "I forget, too," he offered—the only difference was he was strong enough to hold the brunet off.

Bucky held up a hand. "Sorry, Sam. So, Steve, again, I say you're pullin' my leg."

Steve shook his head. "Tellin' God's honest truth," he said. "I wouldn't lie to you, Buck. Hell, I doubt I could make this up."

"I could," Sam supplied. "Mom always said I had a great imagination."

Bucky snorted. "Really?"

Sam just gave Bucky a shit-eating grin.

* * *

Thor came back not long after everyone had settled, and he looked miserable.

"Hey, Uncle Thor," Erika greeted happily, looking up from the papers spread out on the table in front of her. "Sorry about your mom," she offered.

"My Thanks, Erika," said Thor wearily. "May I sit?"

Erika kicked out the nearest chair. "Sure. Did you manage to get the Ether back safe?"

Thor nodded. "At a great cost, but the Ether is safe. Erika, I have disturbing news, and I wish to tell everyone in residence. Please gather them."

Erika blinked. "Um, sure. J.A.R.V.I.S, please assemble the Avengers and my siblings. Tell them Thor's back and he has stuff to tell us."

"_Of course, Miss Stark. Welcome back, Master Odinson,"_ the AI sounded.

Roughly ten minutes later Tony, Bruce, Steve, Clint and Natasha were gathered, as were Jormungand, Fenrir, Sliepnir and Hela, little Erik in Jormungand's arms.

"Who is this little one?" Thor asked, peering curiously at the boy.

"My son," was all Jormungand said. "J.A.R.V.I.S said you had news?"

"Yeah, Point Break, what's up?" asked Tony. "Nice seeing you again, by the way." Everyone knew what he wanted to ask the Thunder god—how was Loki? He held his tongue, though, to hear Thor's news.

Thor swallowed, then looked at his nephews and Niece still standing. He looked at Tony. "You may want to sit before I deliver my news," he said.

Tony waved him off. "Nah, I'm good—let's hear it."

"Very well." A deep breath. "Loki is dead."

Nobody said anything.

"That's not funny, Thor," said Tony at last, his face ashen.

"Twas not meant in jest. I told Erika the Ether's return and protection came at a great cost, and I did not lie—the Ether is safe at the cost at my mother and brother's life."

Tony sat down heavily and swallowed. "He's dead? Loki's dead?" he choked out.

Thor nodded, then looked at Erika, who was just as pale as Tony. She looked ready to break out into sobs at any moment. "Excuse me," she said weakly, struggling to her feet and grabbing her cane before hobbling out of the room. Tony went after her.

Tony found her in her room, sitting on her bed and crying harder than he'd ever seen her cry. "Why?" she choked out. "Why does this keep happening?"

Tony sat down beside her and gathered her into his arms.

"It's not fair," she sobbed. "Why did he have to die?"

He didn't have an answer for her, so he just held her why she cried, and later, when everyone was asleep, he went down to his lab and got mind-numbing drunk for the first time since Erika's kidnapping.

* * *

Jormungand was numb.

Loki was dead. His father was dead, and he'd died for the same reason his grandmother had died—protecting Thor's precious pet mortal.

After Erika had excused herself, the rest of them had gone to their rooms to mourn in private.

"I can watch him," Steve had offered, and Jormungand nodded dumbly before handing him Erik and disappearing to his room.

Now, hours later, he sat in the middle of a room torn apart and repaired and torn apart again, and he didn't have the energy to repair everything again, so he simply curled up on the floor and willed the blackness to consume him.

* * *

Steve watched Jormungand disappear into his room and held Erik closer.

"_Faðir, hvers vegna er mamma uppnámi?_" Erik asked him, and he didn't know what the toddler was saying. He shook his head slightly, unable to answer.

Thor was watching them. "Does he not have the Allspeak?"

Steve shook his head. "I don't know. I know he understands me, but I've never heard him speak anything else. I don't think Jormungand ever taught him English."

"It should not matter if he was 'taught,' the Allspeak should translate any language for him and have his words translated in return."

"_Hvers vegna er Momma uppnámi?_" Erik repeated.

"Kiddo, I have no idea what you're saying?" said Steve tiredly. "J.A.R.V.I.S, could you translate?"

"_Of course, Master Rogers. Master Jorson wishes to inquire as to why Master Lokison was upset."_

Steve sighed. "Of course," he muttered. "It's okay, Buddy, he's fine, he just found out something that made him upset—your grandfather passed away," Steve told the toddler, knowing he'd be understood.

Erik's bottom lip quivered. "Afi minn er dáinn?" he asked quietly.

"Yes, Little One," said Thor. "He died a hero's death, and he feasts in the halls of Valhalla."

Erik sniffed, then nodded once. He fell asleep shortly after that.

"Might I ask why my nephew's son looks like you, Steven?" Thor asked Steve quietly, but Steve had a feeling the God already knew the answer, and he said as much.

Thor nodded. "Aye, I had my suspicions. It is uncommon for mortal males to bear children, but Jormungand is no mere mortal. He is a shapeshifter like my brother, and he can change parts of his body at will, allowing the growth of a babe if he so wished."

Steve shook his head. "So, what, he'd been planning it?"

"I'm afraid I don't know. You'll have to ask my nephew."

* * *

**A/N: There's a line back in one of the chapters of Skuldalið that was my attempt at foreshadowing Erik's birth. It was in Icelandic, so it would be easily missed. I don't remember which one it was, but it was the one where everyone got drunk and played poker, right before Jor had his meltdown. The line roughly translates to "I gave myself a uterus," followed by Fenrir swearing at him ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Fight Scene! I suck at these, so bear with me.**

**Angry Jormungand was fun to write. (Note to all—do not insult Loki in front of him. He will fuck your shit up).**

* * *

Word that the Avengers had regrouped spread like wildfire, especially among the 'super villains' of the city. Soon, they were facing attack after attack, barely getting a moment to rest between attacks. They held up, though, until a blonde woman named Amora and her mountain of a bodyguard called Skurge challenged them with something they hadn't dealt with before—magic.

"Aww are the poor mortals getting tired?" she mocked, firing spell after spell at Steve and Tony while the Hulk tussled with Skurge. Clint and Natasha were dealing with some kind of animals Amora had unleashed upon them—almost wolflike in appearance, but closer in movement to a cat. Thor was trying to contain what was called a Bilgesnipe—whatever it was, it was mean and ugly, and it was _mad_.

Amora laughed again as a blast of her magic knocked the great Captain America off his feet, but her laughter was short-lived when she was hit in the back with someone else's magic, and she turned, snarling, to face this new opponent. Her smile returned. "How cute. Loki's brats."

There stood Jormungand, Fenrir, and Hela in full Asgardian armor, weapons at the ready. "Be gone with you, Witch," Fenrir spat angrily.

Amora 'hmm'd and flicked her wrist, wrapping Tony and Steve in tendrils of pure energy and trapping them. "Let's see—a dead girl, a mutt, and a snake, all babes practically fresh from the cradle. Ooh, I'm so scared."

Fenrir took a fighting stance, sword at the ready, while Jormungand and Hela's hands lit up with magic, their eyes glowing. "You should be," said Hela. "Defeating an old hag like you should be a walk in the park."

Amora snarled. "How DARE you!" she spat, hurling a curse at Hela, who deflected it.

Jormungand snorted. "Is that the best you've got?" he taunted, and Amore threw a curse at him, which he also deflected. His and Hela's entire beings lit up, then they each laid a finger on Fenrir, who was enveloped by their glow. "Get her," said Jormungand.

Fenrir's grin was feral. "With pleasure," he said, and then he surged forward, sword raised. Amora threw curse after curse at him, but they never made it past the glow that surrounded him. He swung at her, and she just managed to get out of the way. "SKURGE!" she shrieked. "SKURGE, I NEED YOU!" She just barely dodged Fenrir's blade again and it sliced off a piece of her hair.

The hulking Asgardian with an axe was at her side at an instant, the Hulk temporarily disposed of as he dealt with his own Bilgesnipe. Skurge swung his axe and Fenrir barely got his sword up in time to stop the axe from slicing him in half. "By the Gods, this fucker is strong," he grunted, doing his best not to get sliced OR crushed.

Hela and Amora were trading curses while Jormungand worked to free Iron Man and Captain America. His magic tore through Amora's leaving the tendrils weak enough for the heroes to escape. Before Steve could say anything, Jormungand took out a knife and threw it at him—or past him, actually, and it embedded itself in the cat like wolf creature that had come barreling towards Steve. "Looks like your sister had Amora under control—mind helping up with pest control?" Clint shouted

Jormungand bowed, and closed his eyes. "Step back, please," he said, and then green fire engulfed his feet and spread rapidly, passing harmlessly over the Avengers but burning the wolves to ash, their howls echoing as they were reduced to cinders.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" They heard, and turned to see Fenrir dropping his sword and changing to his wolf form, which towered over Skurge, and then they watched as the Mighty Skurge was reduced to a chew toy.

A cry was hear from up above and Hela fell from the sky, her glamour gone and the dead half of her smoking slightly. She surged to her feet, murder in her eyes, and she hurled another curse at Amora, who deflected it. Amora threw more curses at Steve and Tony, still focusing mainly on the rival sorceress. Everyone was so engaged in the fight, nobody saw the wicked blade of pure energy shooting straight for Steve.

Well, almost nobody.

"_**MOVE!"**_

In the blink of an eye Steve flew back as if yanked backwards on a fishing hook, and Jormungand was standing where Steve stood moments ago, impaled by a blade formed of Amora's magic.

Time seemed to slow down and Steve got to his feet, horrified. He quickly blocked another attack with his shield, making his way towards Jormungand, who had sank to his knees and was clutching his left hand against his stomach, his right hand flat on the ground.

There was so much blood . . . . .

"Jor . . . ." Steve said quietly, kneeling beside the fallen man.

"You're weak, just like your father," mocked Amora. "How is he, by the way? Oh, that's right—dead!" she cackled.

Steve saw Jormungand's look of pain turn to a look of fury, and seconds later tendrils of magic caught Amora by the ankle and yanked her down, dragging her across the ground towards the fallen serpent.

"_Ert þú ekki þora að tala um föður okkar eins og þessi, þið tveir-bita hóra! Þú vildi vera heppinn ef hann lét þér skína hilluna með tungunni_!" Jormungand hissed, surging to his feet. A surge of electric energy passed through the tendrils to Amora and she shrieked. "_Hann var mikill maður, meira virði en þú getur ímyndað þér_!" Jormungand continued. "_Þegar ég er búin með þig, munt þú vera heppin að alltaf ganga aftur_!" Another shock before she was pulled forward more, then flung across the ground, landing so hard she left a crater. The magic wrapped hold of her again, smashing her against the ground again and again, until Amora was bloodied and broken.

Jormungand was gearing up for another bout of 'smash the asgardian bitch into the pavement" when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Jormungand, that's enough. You proved your point, now let her be."

Jormungand blinked and the blood red fog cleared from his mind. Steven. That was Steven talking to him. He blinked again.

"Come on, Jor, this is torture. She's had enough. Besides, you need a doctor."

Jormungand still shook with rage, but he released the bitch, leaving her in a bloody heap on the ground. "_Hún mun lifa_," Jormungand spat, glaring at her, and his mask of fury shifted back to one of pain.

Behind them, a wolf Fenrir trotted up to them and dropped a thoroughly chewed up Skurge by their feet.

"Uh, good boy?" said Tony, lifting his face plate.

Fenrir growled, and the meaning was clear—_I am not a dog._

"Hey, what about those snipe things?" asked Clint.

They didn't have to worry about the Bilgesnipes—Thor and the Hulk had it covered.

"You okay, Bean Pole?" Tony asked a clearly in pain Jormungand.

"_Wha doou hugsa_?" Jormungand hissed, and his meaning was crystal clear—'do I look okay to you?'

"Okay, so medical for the serpent and anyone else that needs it, and then who's up for calling it a week? Because honestly, after the week we just had, I could sleep for a month. Actually, that's not a bad idea. J.A.R.V.I.S, clear my schedule for the next month," he said into his comm, the faceplate snapping back into place.

Steve didn't even pay any attention to Tony—his focus was on Jormungand, who had fallen to his knees again. "Hey, you gotta stay with me. Jormungand, okay? There are doctors back at the Tower, they'll patch you up." That he and his siblings were not human was no secret, and all of Stark Towar's medical staff knew by now how to treat them.

"We need to get them a medic, too, I guess" said Clint, turning to look at Amora and Skurge, but they were gone. "Uh, where did they go?"

"Teleported," Jormungand growled, his accent incredibly thick. "I told you they would live." He was still trying to contain his anger and mask his pain, and it showed.

"Okay, so we need to get you back to the Tower," said Steve gentle but firm. "Can you walk?"

Jormungand took several deep breaths through his nose before slowly climbing back to his feet. He swayed slightly, blinking rapidly and holding his stomach tighter. "I think . . . . I need to lie down now." And with that, he passed out.

The only reason his head didn't crack against pavement was because Steve was there to catch him.

* * *

Erika and Sliepnir were waiting for them when they got back, along with Sam and Bucky. "Man, you guys kicked ass!" said Sam. "How do I sign up for this Avenger gig, cuz that was awesome!"

Bucky snorted. "You were in the last fight," he reminded Sam. They both had been in the previous fight, but due to the current battle's magic nature, they'd sat out.

"Yeah, But I mean official Avenger! This Falcon wants to kick some ass!"

"Kicking ass is overrated," Tony groaned, free from his suit. "I'm going to go sleep for a month now."

"Who needs healing?" asked Sliepnir? "I've been practicing!"

The others finally noticed a blood soaked Steve carrying a frighteningly pale Jormungand.

"Uhhh, I'm not good enough to help him," said Sliepnir, suddenly feelings sick while looking at his bloodied brother.

"Nobody is," said a tired Hela. "I can partially heal him, but the wound will still require stitches—Jormungand is easily the most powerful of us, and he's obviously in no shape to heal himself."

Steve and Hela took Jormungand to the medical facilities in the Tower, and everyone else's minor injuries were healed by Sliepnir.

Fenrir blanched. "I'd rather have Erika do it," he admitted, and Erika had to come clean about how she sold her magic to S.H.I.E.L.D for her brothers' freedom.

Fenrir blinked. "You . . . . gave up your magic. For us?" he asked quietly (Erika had never heard him so quiet).

Erika gave him a 'duh' look. "Of course I did. You guys are the only family I've got left, besides Tony. And the rest of the Avengers, too, kind of." She gave her brother a smile. "You're my Ohana."

Fenrir rolled his eyes, and the Moment was over.

* * *

Jormungand woke slowly, becoming aware of his surroundings—hospital room, laying in a bed, hooked up to machines. He blinked and shook his head slightly.

Or he tried to, anyway.

Jormungand frowned and looked to his left, where one of Steven's new friends sat, just watching him. Jormungand didn't remember which one he was—whichever one the dark-skinned one was.

Something was itching at the back of Jormungand's head—a thought just out of his reach.

"_I feel like I should be in a great deal of pain,"_ Jormungand admitted.

Steve's friend frowned.

"_That's the morphine_," said a man on his right—this one had light skin and brown hair. _"It worked real good back in the Forties, and now it's even more effective."_

Jormungand blinked lazily. "_Morphine? Is that what's making me feel so . . . . ."_

"_Weightless?" _the second man supplied.

Jormungand nodded slowly.

"_You are one tough Son of a Bitch, you know that? They gave you enough to knock Thor on his ass, so I imagine you feel pretty good right now._"

Jormungand couldn't help the silly grin that spread across his face. _"I feel wonderful,"_ he said, actually letting out a small giggle. His giggles got worse at the look the dark-skinned man gave him.

"Uh, you mind translating?" the dark-skinned man asked the brunet man, and Jormungand suddenly remembered that the dark-skinned man was Sam Wilson, and the brunet was Bucky Barnes.

"_Am I not speaking English?"_ Jormungand asked.

"_No_," Bucky replied. "_Your language is a dead ringer for modern Icelandic, though, so I've got no problem understanding you."_

Jormungand blinked. _"Oh_." He hadn't realized he wasn't speaking English.

That something at the back of his brain clicked and his mind suddenly cleared.

"_Where's Erik?"_

"_The kid?"_ Bucky asked, and Jormungand nodded. "_He's fine—he's with his aunt_."

"_And Steven?"_

"Steve's fine, if you're wondering" Sam reassured him. "A little bloody, a little bruised, but fine—you saved him from a seriously nasty wound."

"Yeah, and he put _himself_ in the line of fire!"Bucky practically snarled.

Both Jormungand and Sam flinched. "What the hell, Man?" Sam asked, and Bucky visibly calmed.

"Sorry," he muttered. "Still a dumb move—Steve almost lost you," he chided Jormungand.

Jormungand frowned. "_Why would he ca—"_

"_Don't you DARE ask 'why would he care?' because if you do I will KILL you, Asgardian god or not!" _ Bucky snarled in Icelandic, surging to his feet. "_That man has been by your bedside for the last three days, only leaving when he absolutely needed to! He didn't eat, he hardly slept—Sam and I just barely convinced him you'd be okay under our watch! Don't you dare think for a MINUTE he doesn't care!"_

"Whoa, okay, cool it, Buck," said Sam, slowly getting to his feet and raising his hands in a 'we're all cool here' gesture. "It's all good, you said it yourself—they pumped him with enough drugs to knock him out this long. The last he saw of Steve, the man couldn't even say 'I missed you, too,' remember?" And Jormungand's head was too fuzzy to question how Sam knew that.

An image of Bucky as a bristling cat came to Jormungand's mind, and of Sam calming the cat. Bucky flopped back in his chair, still glaring at Jormungand, but he was done yelling—for the moment.

Jormungand fell back it a drug-induced sleep while thinking_ he still cares._

* * *

**Here are the translations using Google Translate, for anyone not willing to look it up themselves.**

**Ert þú ekki þora að tala um föður okkar eins og þessi, þið tveir-bita hóra! Þú vildi vera heppinn ef hann lét þér skína hilluna með tungunni**—Don't you dare talk about our father like that, you two-bit whore! You would be lucky if he let you shine his boots with your tongue!

**Hann var mikill maður, meira virði en þú getur ímyndað þér!—** He was a great man, worth more than you can imagine!

**Þegar ég er búin með þig, munt þú vera heppin að alltaf ganga aftur! —** When I'm done with you, you'll be lucky to ever walk again!

**Hún mun lifa—**she will live


	9. Chapter 9

**So in the first draft of the last chapter, things went down a lot different. Jormungand wasn't hurt in the first draft, but because of that change, I ended up rewriting the entire second half of chapter 8, and adding this—chapter 8.5. This will include Jormungand's recovery and his and Steve's reconciliation, and lead up to chapter 9—the only reason this is 8.5 and not 9 is because they're already labeled and I don't know how to change the name it's saved under.**

**Alrighty, here we go! These particular versions of Jormungand, Fenrir, Sliepnir and hela belong to me, as do Erika and Erik. Steve, Sam, Bucky, and all the other Avengers and Marvel characters belong to—who else—Marvel (and Disney, I guess). I'm not making any money off this, I'm just having fun borrowing Marvel's characters for a while. I promise I'll give them back when I'm done.**

**So without further ado, here ya go—chapter 8.5 of Still Not Easy**

**A quick note—Aside from J.A.R.V.I.S's dialogue, if dialogue is in English, but italicized, that means they're speaking Icelandic, but the person whose point of view it is understands it. So for example, if it's in Bucky or Erika's point of view, it's already translated, but if it's from Steve or Tony's point of view, the translation will be at the end of the chapter.**

* * *

Steve came back to Jormungand's hospital room a few hours after Jormungand's verbal whipping from Bucky.

"Thought we told you we got this?" Sam said when Steve came back.

"Couldn't sleep," was all Steve said, pulling up Bucky's vacant chair. Speaking of Bucky . . . "Where'd Bucky go? I thought you were both watching him."

"I have no idea," said Sam honestly. "Your man here riled him up pretty good, and he left right after he chewed his ass out for getting impaled in the first place, and before you even open your mouth, don't bother with the 'he's not my man,' cuz we both know that's bullshit."

Steve huffed. "Am I that obvious?" he asked, smiling ruefully.

"Man, you've been looking like someone took away your favorite toy for the last three days—it doesn't take a rocket scientist to tell you still got it _bad_."

Steve shook his head but said nothing, looking at a sleeping Jormungand—his short hair was matted and his skin looked pale and waxy, the sharper cheekbones of his new body reminding Steve of Angelina Jolie in the new Sleeping Beauty movie.

"He looks different."

Steve didn't realize he'd spoken out loud until Sam gave him a look that said 'and your point is?' He cleared his throat. "Jormungand's a natural shape shifter, like I told you and Bucky—the body he had when I met him wasn't so . . . pale. The face was a little softer, especially the cheekbones. His hair was down to his thighs when it was loose, but he usually wore it in this ponytail, with a gold fastener around the base. He also used to have an earring of a snake biting its tail."

"Why did he change?"

"Well, according to his newest passport and ID, his name is Enginn Jorson, and he is from Reykjavk, Iceland. I'm gonna take a wild guess and say he didn't want to be found."

"So what changed? Why isn't he still in Iceland?"

Steve sighed and rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I don't know, Sam, I haven't really talked to him since he got here."

"Uh-huh," said Sam. "And whose fault is that, I wonder?"

"Don't start," Steve warned. "Please, just . . . . Drop it."

And he did.

For now.

* * *

Jormungand woke up two days later, still high as a kite. "_Góðan daginn, elskan_," he said sleepily, giving Steve a lazy smile, and Bucky choked on his coffee.

Steve gave Jormungand a hesitant smile and said, "Morning," before giving Bucky a weird look. "What?"

"Nothing," Bucky wheezed, still fighting for air. "Not a damn thing."

Steve didn't believe him, but he let it go. "How are you feeling?" he asked Jormungand, whose smile grew.

"_Mér finnst ótrúlegt! Ég virkilega líkar hvað ég er dælt fullt af! Það er engin sársauki á öllum_!" he exclaimed, his voice slightly slurred.

Steve smiled again and shook his head. "J.A.R.V.I.S, translate, please?" he asked the AI.

"_Of course, Master Rogers. Master Lokison is expressing his enjoyment of his medication and lack of pain."_

"Thanks, J.A.R.V.I.S."

"_My pleasure, Master Rogers. Shall I continue direct translations from this point on?"_

"That would be wonderful, thank you, J.A.R.V.I.S," said Steve, and to Jormungand he said, "So, Bruce said you should be out of the hospital in a few weeks and back in your own bed. Erik misses you and wants to know when you're 'coming home,' and Erika's taking really good care of him. I think she'd make a good mother, she really adores Erik.

"_Hún getur fengið eigin hennar, Erik er minn," _said Jormungand.

"_I believe the direct translation is 'she can get her own, Erik is mine_,'" said J.A.R.V.I.S, and Steve couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him.

"_Þú ert góður faðir, svo langt," _said Jormungand, giving him a beautiful smile.

'_You're a good father, so far.'_

That made Steve's face flush. "Um, thanks, I guess. I haven't really spent that much time with him. I was thinking . . . . maybe when you're better . . . . . we could all do something together?"

Jormungand's smile faltered slightly and he hesitated. "_Ég held að hann myndi vilja að_," he said quietly, and J.A.R.V.I.S translated to '_I think he would like that_,' and Jormungand didn't add 'I would, too,' because he was so high on morphine (and had been for the last five days) that he didn't remember Bucky telling him how much Steve still cared.

* * *

Erika was in and out of the hospital room frequently, little Erik in tow. Jormungand was sleeping for most of their visits, but they stayed anyway.

"He's learning English," Erika told a sleeping Jormungand excitedly. "He's working on his reading and writing, and translating. I think Mom's side of your gene pool made him super smart for his age—I didn't know he could already read and write Icelandic!" She smiled proudly at the toddler in her lap, who smiled right back. "Momma would be real proud of you if he were awake," she told the toddler quietly. "He's gonna be proud once he wakes up.

"_English is hard," _said Erik in Icelandic, and Erika laughed a little.

"Yeah, our language can be a pain in the butt," she agreed.

"_I wish I knew EVERY language, like Momma . . . ."_

Erika hmm'd in agreement. "The Allspeak IS a handy little trick—I wonder why you didn't get it . . . Well, Allspeak or not, it's good that you're learning. This way, you can talk directly to your Papa, with nobody else having to translate for him. You wanna practice with the book we brought and read to your Momma?" she asked the toddler, who nodded. "Okay." She pulled out a book of poems from the bag she'd brought with her—_Where the Sidewalk Ends_ by Shel Silverstein.

Erik squirmed around in Erika's lap, getting comfortable, and Erika gave him the book. "Why don't you pick one?" she asked, and Erik gave a mumbled 'kay,' before searching through the pages, finally stopping on one.

Erik studied the page before reading in halting English, "Lazy . . . lazy . . lazy, lazy, lazy Jane . . .she wants . . a drink of water . . . . .so she waits . . . . . . and waits, and waits, and waits, and waits for it to . . . . rain." He looked up at Erika, and she smiled and nodded encouragingly, so he flipped to another page. He got to 'Recipe or a Hippopotamus sandwich' and giggled at the picture, a hippo with a piece of bread tied to his back and belly. Once his giggles subsided, he studied the poem, and began, "A hy-ppo . . . hippo . . . sand-witch is easy to make . . . . .All you do is simply take . . one slice of bread . . . .one slice of . . . cake? . . . . some may-yo-nnaise, one onion right, one hippo . . . . hippo . . . . um . . . ."

"Sound it out," Erika reminded him.

" . . . . Hip-po-pot-a-mus," Erik stuttered.

"See, there you go!"

Erik bit his lower lip and continued with the poem.

"One hip-po-pot-a-mus, one . . . . piece of string, a dash of . . . pepper . .. . . that . . . ought . . . to do it. And now comes . . . . the problem . . . . biting into it."

Erika gave him a squeeze from behind. "Good job, Buddy!"

Erik leaned back into her touch, thumbing through the book for another poem.

* * *

Jormungand's natural healing meant he was out of the hospital a week after his conversation with Steve, with the wound in his stomach already scabbed over. He stayed in his bed for a few extra days (because they cut him off the morphine and he suddenly found himself in a great deal of pain), only moving when absolutely necessary.

Erik insisted on sitting on the floor by his bed with his Legos, promising to not leave them scattered in case Jormungand had to use the bathroom (since that was the only reason he was getting up—Hela had been bringing him food).

Hela, Sliepnir, and Fenrir offered what energy they could to heal their brother, and their borrowed energies sped up his recovery time even more. He was walking two weeks after his injury with very little pain, and he was nearly back to normal (he was temporarily banned from caffeine, and that made him pout for a little bit, but he got over it).

Something everyone found out soon after Jormungand's pain treatment stopped was that he remembered_ nothing_ from the days he'd been on the morphine drip. He vaguely remembered bits and pieces—waking up a few times with someone sitting beside him. He didn't remember if he'd talked to them, though, or what was said.

That being said, it was a complete surprise when Steve asked if he and Erik would like to have 'a day out on the town.' "Erik really wants to see that new dragon movie," he'd said, and that was how Jormungand ended up in a dark theater with sticky floors and uncomfortable seats, with Steve to his right and Erik to his left, watching a cartoon about a young man that rides dragons.

"_I want to ride a dragon!"_ Erik cried excitedly after the movie.

"_It's harder than it looks,"_ he told Erik. To Steve, he said, "I haven't seen any dragons in _ages_! I miss them—they're actually quite civil, if you get to know them."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Dragons are real?" he asked skeptically.

Jormungand pointed to himself, saying "Giant serpent," which earned him a "Touché," from Steve.

"_Momma, can we go to Asgard and see a dragon?"_ Erik asked.

"_I've told you, Little One, Asgard is no place for you,"_ Jormungand responded easily, and Erik pouted. _"Don't pout, it's not as cute as you think," _he chided, and Erik's pout melted.

"_Okay,"_ said the little boy, admitting defeat. "_Can we get food now? I'm hungry."_

Jormungand turned to Steve. "Is it alright if we get food? Erik is hungry."

Steve pretended to think. "I don't know . . . . ." He trailed off, rubbing his chin.

Erik latched onto Steve. "_Please, Papa? Please, Please, Please?"_

'Please' was one of the only words in Icelandic Steve knew, and he gave a deep, theatrical sigh and saying, "Oh, I suppose we could find _something_ to eat, since we're already out."

"_Thank you, Papa!"_ said Erik, and Steve ruffled the kid's hair, which made Erik laugh and duck away behind Jormungand's legs.

* * *

Erik had loved the movie, and he wanted everything and anything to do with it—and now that Stark Tower's resident Billionaire and his daughter weren't strangers anymore, he had no problems asking for it, since there was a good chance he would get it.

What Erik wanted, though, that nobody could give him, was his own dragon.

"_I wish I had a dragon,"_ he said later their third viewing of the movie. "_I could name it, and Auntie Erika's Papa could make a saddle, and we could ride over the city!" _

This gave Erika an idea. A horrible idea, really, but it sunk its metaphorical claws into her and would not let go.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, please pull up all published works on dragons," she asked in her own workshop one day (Tony had given her one, fully equipped, though she mainly used it to as an art workshop).

"_There are approximately 147 million web search results alone for the word 'dragon' let alone all know published works. Would you like me to start you a new file?" _The AI inquired.

"Yes, please. Also, download any and all anatomical references that you can, especially all photo references to the dragon character Toothless."

Since dragons didn't actually exist (at least, not on Earth), this was going to be a tough project for her. It would make Erik happy, though, so she buckled down and got ready for the biggest Stark project since the Iron Man suit.

* * *

'

**A/N: I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT MORPHINE ASIDE FROW WHAT I'VE READ ON GOOGLE, SO IF I'VE DEPICTED A MAN ON MORPHINE WRONGLY, I APOLOGIZE.**

**Review if you want. It'll make me happy, but you don't have to :)**

_**Translations using Google Translate:**_

**Góðan daginn, elskan—**Good Morning, darling


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello!**

**This chapter was a bitch to write, and I'm still not happy with it, but it's the best I got, so blah.**

**Steve belongs to Marvel and Disney. Erika, Erik, and my interpretations of Jormungand, Fenrir, Sliepnir, and Hela belong to me.**

* * *

Not long after Erika got going on her project, she got stuck. She tried and tried to move past it, but it wasn't budging.

"J.A.R.V.I.S, close Project Night Fury," she said tiredly. "I need a break. Also, please schedule a flight to England on Daddy's jet for tomorrow morning, and schedule a reservation for five at the Palm Court for Afternoon Tea." She felt like having real English tea, and what better place to get it than straight from the source?

"We're going to England tomorrow," she announced to her siblings. "Wear your formal clothes and be ready to leave around nine a.m."

They were used to their sister's tip of the hat whims, so nobody questioned it.

"Can I wear my vest?" asked Sliepnir, referring to the purple paisley vest he had just gotten.

"Knock yourself out," said Erika—everyone had several formal outfits, at her insistence.

* * *

"Would it be too much to ask if Erik spent the day with you tomorrow?" Jormungand asked Steve shortly after his sister's announcement of their trip. "Erika's whisking us away to England tomorrow for tea."

Steve looked up from his book. "Uh, sure."

Jormungand gave him a smile. "Thank you, Steven. Normally I would have given you more notice, but . . . . you are familiar with my sister's whims."

Steve bit back a laugh. "Yeah, Tony springs thing on us last minute a lot, too—it kinda runs in the family, I guess."

Things were still a little off-kilter between them, but they'd gotten more comfortable around each other since Jormungand's injury, and Jormungand was glad that Erik had his father around.

The flight from Manhattan to London was uneventful, and they arrived just in time for Afternoon Tea.

"Erika Stark, party of five," said Erika easily at the restaurant's matre de podium, and they were seated shortly after. A served came out with a bottle of Mumm champagne and handed out menus. They picked their finger sandwiches and teas, and the server left to place their order.

"Do Midgardians have tea like this every day?" Hela asked.

"Only in certain countries. Nobody can beat authentic English tea, though, and I thought it would be fun to get out for an afternoon," said Erika. She looked over at Sliepnir, who was frowning at the tea menu. "What's wrong?"

"I've never had tea," he admitted. "I don't know what to get."

Erika covered his hand with her own. "Don't worry—you're in good hands. Now then, it looks like there are three kinds of tea here—traditional, herbal, and oriental. I myself prefer traditional, but I'm known to enjoy a cup of peppermint tea from time to time."

Sliepnir hesitated, then nodded. "Okay, I'll try traditional." He then noticed that there were six teas listed under 'Traditional English Teas. "Umm . . . ."

"If you're not sure, stick to English Breakfast—it's the most commonly ordered one," she advised, and Sliepnir nodded again.

When the time to order their pots came, Erika and Sliepnir decided to share a pot of English Breakfast, Hela chose Chamomile, Fenrir chose Fine Ceylon, and Jormungand chose Vanilla Black.

Nobody was surprised when their tea came and Jormungand used up most of the table's supplied sugar in his cup.

"It's a little strong," said Sliepnir after a sip of his own.

"Here, try adding milk," said Erika, offering him the one of the small porcelain creamers. He took it and poured a small amount of milk into his tea, and then stirred before sipping lightly, and Erika could tell he liked that much better.

"So, why did you decide to kidnap us?" asked Hela.

Erika tapped her fingers against the table. "No reason," she said innocently.

Nobody bought it.

Erika's mask of ignorance cracked. "Okay, fine," she huffed. "Besides the fact that I really wanted real English tea, I wanted to talk to you guys about something." She looked around briefly, then lowering her voice, she asked, "What do you know about dragons?"

* * *

"_Papa, hvert fór mamma að fara?"_ asked Erik, but before Steve could ask J.A.R.V.I.S to translate, Erik stuck his tongue out slightly in concentration before saying in English, "Where's Momma?"

"Your Aunt Erika Stole him for the day," he said.

"Oh. When . . . . when is he coming back?"

Steve was impressed with how far Erik had come in his pursuit of the English language. "I'm not sure, Buddy—it's a long flight from here to where they went, so they'll probably be back some time tonight."

"Oh. O-kay," said Erik, and then he went back to playing with his toys.

Steve was struck by the sudden urge to draw his son sitting amongst his toys, so he reached for his sketchpad and a pencil, and turned to a fresh page.

Later that night, when Erika and her siblings returned, Jormungand asked Steve why Erik was sleeping in the middle of the floor.

"He wanted to wait up for you," said Steve sheepishly. "He gave me The Face when I tried putting him to bed."

Nobody could resist The Face except Jormungand, but he'd had practice.

"Very well," Jormungand huffed, gently picking up the sleeping toddler. "I'll have him clean his mess first thing tomorrow. Goodnight, Steven."

"Goodnight," Steve said back quietly, watching Jormungand retreat to the elevator.

* * *

"Go to him, you idiot!" Erika said to Jormungand one night not long after her and her siblings' tea trip. "He still likes you—everyone can tell! Plus, it would make Erik happy, so everyone wins!"

Jormungand didn't look up from his coffee cup (they had finally lifted his caffeine ban, thank the Norns).

"Come _on, _what are you afraid of?"

Jormungand blinked. "I feel like we've had this conversation before," he admitted. "It's . . . unsettling.

"What, like Déjà vu? Don't worry, that's normal. Getting back on track—come on, Jor, you need to say something! I'm surprised _he_ hasn't said anything—you should have seen him when you were hurt, he was a mess!"

Jormungand blinked. "Really?"

Erika gave him a look that said 'DUH.' "Why else do you think he asked you out after you were well enough to move around? Obviously, Captain Spangles wants you back, but he lost his nerve after that one date—

"It was hardly a date, Erik was with us!" Jormungand interrupted.

—So _you_ gotta step up and make a move!" Erika finished like he hadn't spoken.

Jormungand huffed. "Fine!" he snapped, and vanished in a shimmer of green light, and Erika had approximately three seconds to think '_oh, boy_,' before Jormungand returned to his seat in another flash of light, red-faced. "Happy now?" he snapped.

"Did you let him know you're still interested?" she asked.

Jormungand's blush deepened and he nodded tersely.

Later, Erika would ask him what he did to make a red faced Steve Rogers run into the kitchen and kiss him senseless.

He never told her.

* * *

**A/N: I KNOW NOTHING ABOUT ENGLAND'S AFTERNOON TEAS OR LONDON'S PALM COURT SETUP, I'M SORRY IF I GOT SOMETHING WRONG! **


	11. Chapter 11

**The brief smut scene in this chapter (and future chapters) is why the rating is M.**

**Rebuilding a relationship at a reasonable pace is **_**hard. UGH.**_

**Again, I don't know how to change document titles with this stupid Program, so this is chapter 9.5 of Still Not Easy.**

* * *

Ground rules were set and lines were drawn, neither one of them willing to move too fast for fear of getting hurt again.

Jormungand ended up sleeping in Steve's bed, sleeping with his back pressed up against the soldier's chest.

_Jormungand was above him, grinning like a Cheshire cat before he wriggled himself down the length of Steve's body. He was nestled between Steve's legs and leaned down, giving Steve's cock a small lick, then a bigger one, then he popped his mouth over the head and sucked. He worked his mouth down Steve's length, inch by inch, until he was at the base, and he swallowed again, and Steve watched Jormungand's head of glossy black hair bob up and down, up to the tip and back down to the root._

Steve woke bleary-eyed and hard from the dream he'd just had, and he felt like he could still feel the wet heat of Jormungand's mouth on him.

Actually, he could still feel it, come to think of it, and it felt really,_ really_ good. Steve closed his eyes again and focused on that velvet tongue swirling around him, and he blinked his eyes open and looked down, because this felt way too real, and what do you know, there was Jormungand, sucking Steve's cock like nothing had changed between them. The sight alone of Jormungand's mouth wrapped around his cock made Steve cum.

He came back down from his orgasm to see Jormungand smiling sheepishly. "Your erection woke me up, so I thought I'd help," he offered innocently, looking up at Steve through his eyelashes.

Steve groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Don't make that face," he groaned.

"What face?" Jormungand asked innocently.

"The face that makes it impossible for me to be mad at you," said Steve tiredly. "I appreciate the wake-up call, but that crossed a whole bunch of consent issue lines, Jor."

Jormungand looked away. "Apologies," he murmured quietly, looking like a kicked puppy.

Steve groaned again. "_That!_ _That_ is the face I'm talking about!" he said, exasperated.

"Again, apologies . . . . I'll leave, if you wish," said Jormungand quietly, moving to get off of Steve.

"No, wait," said Steve, rubbing a hand over his face. "You . . . . you don't have to go. If you don't want to." He reached for Jormungand's hand and threaded their fingers together. "You just . . . surprised me. It was a good surprise, though," he admitted, giving Jormungand a tiny smile and tugging him back down so he was laying flush against Steve.

The smile Jormungand gave him made Steve's heart melt, and he pulled Jormungand closer.

God, he had missed this.

* * *

"I take it by the stupid smiles on your faces that you two worked things out?" Erika asked them when they finally emerged for breakfast.

"Whatever gave you that idea?" Jormungand asked innocently, and Erika rolled her eyes.

"Just keep the PDA to a minimum, there are kids present," she said, gesturing to Erik, who was sitting in a booster seat eating oatmeal.

"_Good Morning, my Darling boy," _Jormungand greeted the boy happily, picking him up and hugging him close, kissing his head.

"_Morning, Momma,"_ Erik said back. "_You're happy. Are you and Papa gonna start kissing now?"_

Jormungand chuckled. _"Not in front of you, Dearest One,"_ he promised, then put him back down in his seat.

"_Morning, Papa,"_ said Erik to Steve.

"He says good morning," said Jormungand, and Steve smiled before ruffling Erik's hair. "Morning, Buddy," he greeted, sitting beside the toddler. "Is the oatmeal any good?"

Erik nodded enthusiastically, taking another big spoonful.

"You guys hungry?" asked Erika. "I can make you something, if you want."

Steve agreed, but Jormungand gave her a wolfish grin and said, "I already ate."

It took Erika a minute to process that, and when she did she punched her brother in the shoulder and shouted, "Dude, _TMI!_"

Jormungand just laughed.

* * *

Just as Jormungand said he would, he was now helping the Avengers with their missions, so much so that there was talk about making him and his siblings' official members. Sam and Bucky were also being considered official Avengers, as they helped with their fair share of missions.

The only one to decline a position on the team was Sliepnir, who 'didn't have the stomach for it, but thank you.' Instead, he filled his days shopping with his sister, who turned him onto the wonderful world of Midgardian fashion—he took an instant liking to skinny jeans and beanies, and he got his ears pierced with spike gauge earrings.

"You look ridiculous," said Fenrir when he first showed off his new clothes.

"Hey, nothing wrong with the Hipster look," Erika defended as she came to stand beside him. "I think he looks good. Go put your stuff up, then we can go get coffee," she told Sliepnir, who happily complied. She surveyed Fenrir and his unruly hair. "You need another haircut," she said.

"Oh, no," snarled Fenrir. "My hair is staying this time, thank you very much!"

Erika shrugged. "Suit yourself, Jungle Jim. Have you seen Jor and Erik?" she asked.

Fenrir rolled his eyes. "They're with Captain Rogers, 'bonding,'" he said, disgust evident in his voice.

Erika frowned. "Don't tell me you still have a problem with Jor being gay," she said, a warning clear in her voice.

Fenrir looked mildly insulted. "Of course not," he said, and he meant it—he'd grown a lot as a person during the last few years, surprisingly. "I'm disgusted by how quickly Jormungand forgets how his precious Captain abandoned him and their child. If I were him, I would have made Captain Rogers grovel at my feet and beg my forgiveness."

"Hey, if Jor can forgive him, so can I," was all Erika said. "At least he's willing to _try_."

Fenrir snorted. "If he breaks my brother's heart again, I'm breaking his skull," he spat, and that took Erika by surprise.

"Okay, seriously, who the Hel are you and what have you done with Fenrir?" she asked.

Fenrir gave her a warning look and she held up her hands. "Just saying—you've been off-kilter since you got back. The change is kind of nice, but still weird."

"Don't make me regret moving back in."

* * *

**A/N: Aww, lookit that, he **_**does**_** care! Review if you want, or don't, it's all up to you :)**


	12. Chapter 12

**Erika, Erik, and Erika's siblings (at least my versions of them) belong to me. The others belong to Marvel.**

* * *

There was a charity gala coming up to support the local children's hospital, and Erika insisted her siblings attend since they were 'official Avengers.'

"I'm not sure, Erika," said Hela.

"Oh come on, you'll love it!" Erika insisted. "It's no different than when you go out and face super villains!"

Hela gave her a dry look.

"Okay, so maybe it's a little different. Trust me, it'll be fine. Now, let's find you guys something to wear. And Fen, please, _please_ do something with your hair."

When the Avengers and their newest members showed up to the gala, the paparazzi went nuts. They snapped pictures of the men in their tuxes and Natasha in her little black dress. Erika was dressed in a strapless green and gold knee-length dress with a pleated skirt, with her customary emerald teardrop necklace and earrings, her hair up in a Scandinavian crown braid, tied with a green silk ribbon. Her new cane and leg brace were even gold, to match her outfit.

Fenrir's tuxedo was white with a black vest and tie and his hair was gelled back into a low ponytail, Jormungand's suit was black with a green vest and bowtie, and Sliepnir wore his purple paisley vest. Hela's dress was a red knee-length off the shoulder dress, with a gold flower necklace and matching earrings, and her long dark hair fell freely around her shoulders.

Fenrir went off by himself immediately, and Jormungand stuck close to Steve, who was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself. Sliepnir and Hela stayed with Erika, and it was the most fun Erika had had in a while.

That is, until a newly parolled Justin Hammer showed up.

Erika's hatred for Justin Hammer and HammerTech was no secret. Tony seemed to be taking Justin's presence in stride, treating him with just as much indifference as he always did. His gaze became sharper, however, when Justin's attention turned to Erika.

"My goodness, look at how you've grown," said Justin to Erika, who did her best to smile politely, though she knew she was failing miserably. "Have you always been that tall? They just shoot up like weds, don't they, Tony?" he asked, a lazy grin stretching his lips. "Take my boy for example—seems like only yesterday he was toddling around in diapers, being chased by his nanny."

Tony tried not to grimace. "Ah, yes, how is . . . ."

"Aiden," Justin supplied.

"Right, Aiden. How is Aiden?" Not that he cared.

Before Justin could answer, a tall young man with Justin's hair and eyes came sauntering up to them, his own smarmy smile painting his face. "Mr. Stark," he greeted, then he looked at Erika. "Erika," he greeted. "You look wonderful."

Erika did her best to smile. "Aiden. Wow. Great to see you," she forced out.

Aiden's gaze fell over Hela and Sliepnir. "And who is this lovely creature?" he asked, taking Hela's hand and kissing the back of it.

Erika cleared her throat. "Aiden, this is Hela—a relative from my mother's side." Her message was clear—back off.

Aiden's attention shifted back to her. "Hmm. Well, Erika, I was just about to step outside for a quick minute—care to join me?" he offered.

"I'd rather be eaten alive by rabid wolves," she said sweetly, smiling. "Oh, speaking of rabid wolves, have you met my brothers? Well, cousins, but they're like older brothers—protective streak and all." She pointed out Fenrir and Jormungand, and Aiden visibly paled. "So, I think I'm going to go over with them now. Bye, Aiden," she said airily, and then gestured for Sliepnir and Hela to follow her.

Tony, who had been watching them the entire time, was trying and failing to contain his laughter.

"Ugh, I can't stand him _or_ his dad," Erika muttered when they were far enough away.

"So we gathered," said Hela. "Arrogant little prick, isn't he?"

"It runs in the family," she said. "I need a drink."

The rest of the gala was uneventful, and most of them went right to bed when they got back to the tower.

Coulson had been called for babysitting duty for Erik, and Jormungand thanked him profusely for his services. The former S.H.I.E.L.D agent nodded, handing over the sleepy toddler before taking his leave. Jormungand put him to bed, and then he proceeded to follow Steve to the bed they once again shared.

"You look amazing," Steve said once their door was shut and locked, pulling Jormungand close. "Have I said that yet?"

Jormungand smiled. "Only a thousand times, but I never tire of hearing it," he said before tilting his head up and capturing Steve's mouth in a searing kiss.

Neither one of them got much sleep that night.

* * *

Tony was down in his workshop, sipping a glass of scotch, pulling up old files from his private server. One of them was a video.

It was labeled 'Christmas 1993' and Tony opened it, though he knew it would hurt.

"_Is this on?"_ he heard himself say behind a camera. _"Hell-o, testing, testing!"_

"_Stark, stop being an idiot."_

The camera's view shifted and there sat Loki in normal clothes, a squirming little girl in his lap. _"Can I open my presents now?"_ the little girl begged.

"_Fine by me. Babe?"_ Tony heard himself reply.

The Loki on camera gave the toddler an indulgent smile. _"Oh, very well, then, you little monster—get to it,"_ he said, releasing the girl, who squealed in delight before grabbing the nearest present and tearing it open. Tony watched the recording of his little girl opening present after present, always yelling in glee as she got the newest dolls, or a coloring kit. _"Thank you Momma, Thank you Daddy!_ She yelled, launching herself at Loki before running towards the camera and video Tony let out an _"Oof! Yeah, you're welcome, kiddo."_

The camera moved and was set down, and then Tony was watching himself go to Loki and pull the god to his feet. "_Now it's Momma's turn for a present."_

Tony gulped down another mouthful of scotch.

Tony on camera held Loki's hands between them, and then he got down on one knee. He reached in his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, and he presented the box to Loki, opening it up to show a beautiful silver ring. _"Loki Odinson, will you do me the honor of becoming Loki Stark?"_

Loki looked like he was going to cry. _"Oh, of course I will, you idiot," _he said, and then Tony was up on his feet and their mouths were locked in a tender kiss.

"_Eww!" _Little Erika exclaimed, looking up from her dolls and making a face, and that made Tony start laughing, both on screen and in present time.

"She never did care much to see us kissing, did she?"

Tony froze and dropped the glass in his hand, because he knew that voice. He turned slowly and stopped breathing.

" . . . . . Loki?"

There he was, in all his Asgardian glory, looking like Hell warmed over. "You're not hallucinating, Tony," he said gently. "I'm here."

Tony stumbled to his feet and walked slowly towards what could only be a ghost. "You're dead," he croaked. "You're not here, you're dead, Thor saw you die. He saw you."

Loki 'tsk'd. "He saw what I needed him to see, so that he may spread the tale of my death. How else was I going to get Thanos off my back?" Loki met Tony in the middle of the workshop. "Tell me one thing, before I do anything else—are you still with Pepper?"

Tony blinked and shook his head. "Um, no. We, uh, we decided to end things. Well, she decided."

That was all the answer Loki needed, and he pulled Tony into a rough kiss.

* * *

Erika was still asleep. That had to be the only explanation for why Loki was standing in the kitchen as if he'd never left. "I'm dreaming," she murmured. "I'm dreaming, and I'm going to wake up now."

Loki 'tsk'd. "Is that any way to greet your mother?" he asked good-naturedly, coming around the counter.

Erika pinched herself. "Ow."

Loki was still there.

" . . . . . . Mom?"

Loki inclined his head. "I'm here_, Dóttir mín_."

Erika's cane clattered to the floor and she surged forward, wrapping her arms around Loki. "Mom," she said quietly, tears running down her face. "You're okay."

Loki pulled back and said with a straight face "Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," and that made Erika laugh. "There's a smile," he said. "That's better. Now, where are your siblings?"

The rest of them were just as happy to see Loki alive, though none of them hugged him. Jormungand introduced Loki to Erik, and told him that he and Steven were back together.

"Hello, little one," Loki said to Erik, holding the toddler.

"_Halló, Afi,",_ said Erik quietly, and Loki couldn't help but smile. "He is beautiful," he told Jormungand as he handed the child back.

"So, you're back," said Erika excitedly. "To stay this time?"

Loki nodded. "If your father will have me," and they heard a snort before Tony came in the room and gave Loki a wide grin. "Duh, you're always welcome here," he said. "One condition, though—we gotta get married."

Loki sighed. "Oh, very well," he sighed, and Erika squealed.

"Best. Morning. Ever!"

* * *

**A/N: I couldn't keep Loki and Tony apart. During the last story, I wanted nothing more than them to get back together, and now they can, so yay!**

**I don't know if Aiden Hammer is going to have a role in this, but I needed something semi-interesting to happen at the gala, so ta-da, smarmy Hammer brat!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I had this one written out before anything else. I knew I wanted it to happen, I just had to fill in the gaps on the way. Jormungand, Erik, and Erika belong to me, the rest belong to Marvel. The lyrics included are to Bruno Mars' 'Marry You.'**

* * *

There was something Steve wanted to do.

He'd been thinking about it for a while, now, and he was sure it was the right thing to do.

He just didn't know how to go about doing it.

"Dude, just go for it," Sam told him after their jog one morning. "The worst he can say is no, and I'm pretty sure he won't."

Steve shook his head. "I'm happy I've got him back, and I never want to lose him again—I need to show him that."

"Well, if you need help, I'm your guy," said Sam with a smile.

Bucky came back to where he'd left them. "Hey, I was his guy first!" he protested. Then, "What exactly am I your guy for?"

"Steve's gonna propose," Sam said before Steve could, and Steve glared at him before giving Bucky a helpless look. "What he said," he muttered.

Bucky just gave him a crooked grin and clapped him on the shoulder. "'Bout damn time, Rogers—I thought I'd have to do it for you!"

Steve punched Bucky in his non-metallic shoulder.

* * *

Operation Ball-and-Chain ("Dude, seriously?" "What? Like you can come up with something better?" "Oh, I _know_ I can") was put into its planning stages, and it enlisted the aid of all available Avengers (No, Tony, I don't want fireworks) and Non-Avengers (Yes, Erika, if he says yes, you can help plan the wedding).

It was a good thing everyone was not completely horrible at keeping secrets, or the cat would have been out of the bag the day Steve decided to ask for help.

"He's gonna be so excited!" Erika squealed as she held a squirming Erik in her arms. "And this lil guy's gonna look so cute in a tux!" she cooed at her nephew, sitting him down and sitting beside him, reaching for the guitar she'd just gotten—she still had a lot of work to do if she wanted to be ready.

Steve just gave her an indulgent smile and went back to practicing drawing Nordic runes.

* * *

Jormungand let out a jaw-splitting yawn and stretched languidly, reaching for the other side of the bed he shared with Steve.

Steve's side was empty, but still warm, so the blond hadn't been gone long. On Steve's pillow, Jormungand noticed, was a small envelope with his name written in beautifully scripted Nordic Runes. Curious, Jormungand ran the enveloped over in his hands and carefully pried it open. He slid a slip of parchment (actual parchment—not paper!) out and skimmed the note written on it.

_Jor,_

_I want to ask you something, but you have to come to me, and you've got a few stops on the way. When you're ready, head to the bakery we always go to. Tasha's there, and she has something for you._

—_Steve_

Jormungand frowned slightly, but then it melted into a smile. "As you wish," he murmured, sitting up fully and stretching again.

Erika had taken Erik out for the day, he was informed, and so he didn't have to worry about managing the toddler. Tony offered to drive him, but he politely declined, saying he'd prefer to walk. He arrived at the bakery and was greeted by Natasha, who handed him a small box with a ribbon tied around the top. "Don't open it until you get to Steve," she instructed, and then handed him another small envelope.

_Jor,_

_I know you need your daily dose of diabetes in a cup, so why don't you join Bruce at that coffee shop we visited on our first date?_

—_Steve_

Jormungand gave Natasha a look but said nothing, and Natasha held up her hands in a 'don't look at me' gesture.

True to Steve's words, Bruce was waiting for him at the coffee shop Jormungand and Steve had visited on that first night out. There was a cup of tea in front of him and a steaming cup of something on the other side of the table—a latte with something drawn into the foam.

Jormungand's throat went dry as he stared at the art—the Nordic rune for love stared right back at him. "Do you know what this rune means?" he asked quietly.

Bruce shook his head. "Steve just drew me a picture and said to give it to the barista. He also gave me this," he said, holding up another envelope. "Go ahead and drink it—Steve told me what you liked. I think he still needs a few minutes to get ready."

Jormungand almost asked 'ready for what?' but decided against it, taking a sip of latte before opening the envelope and reading the note.

_Jor,_

_This is the last note, I promise. Meet me at the park we took Erik to last week._

—_Steve_

Jormungand sighed. "This is all somewhat confusing," he admitted, fiddling with the ribbon on the cupcake box.

Bruce just smiled and sipped his tea.

When Jormungand got to the park, Steve was nowhere in sight. He looked and looked, but the blond was nowhere to be seen.

He did, however, see his sister sitting on the park's small improv stage, A guitar in her hands and his son sitting quietly by her feet. She spotted him and waved, then began playing and singing.

_It's a beautiful night,  
We're looking for something dumb to do.  
Hey baby,  
I think I wanna marry you._

Jormungand looked around for Steve again, and huffed when he couldn't find the blond. He looked up at the stage again and noticed something else—a sign was sitting by Erika, and it said 'open the box.'

Jormungand looked down at the cupcake box in his hand, then back up at his sister. She nodded and winked, and kept playing and singing.

Jormungand opened the box, and almost dropped it—inside was a chocolate cupcake, a gold ring with an emerald stone setting on top of the swirls of frosting.

_Is it the look in your eyes,  
Or is it this dancing juice?  
Who cares baby,  
I think I wanna marry you._

Jormungand was shaking by the time he spotted Steve making his way to him. The blond stopped in front of him, took the hand not holding the box, and got down on one knee.

BY the Norns, Jormungand _couldn't breathe_.

"Jormungand, You turned my whole world on its head. I know so much more now than I ever did before I met you, and I'm grateful for every moment we've had, good and bad," said Steve, pulling out an identical ring from his pocket. He gestured to the box. "That one was just a prop—I didn't want to get chocolate all over your hands when I did this." He held up the ring in between two fingers. "Jormungand Lokison—will you marry me?"

The box dropped from Jormungand's trembling hand and his hand covered his mouth, tears welling up in his eyes. He nodded fervently and let out a choked sob. "Yes," he managed to choke out, and then he very nearly tackled Steve to the ground.

* * *

**A/N: Operation Ball-and-Chain is a success! (was there ever any doubt?)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry for the lack of any other characters. I'm trying to incorporate everyone, but Steve and Jor are fun to write, and I'm enjoying telling their story.**

**Erika, Erik, and these interpretations of Loki 's children belong to me and everyone else belongs to Marvel and Disney.**

* * *

Jormungand was nervous. While in Reykjavik, he had gotten in the habit of baking while nervous. This meant, that at four in the morning one Saturday after Steve proposed, while everyone was sleeping, Jormungand was baking tray after tray of cookies, and the counters were full at least fifteen different types by the time Steve came in for his morning cup of coffee.

"Whoa," he said, taking a look around. "That's . . . . a lot of cookies. Is this why you never came to bed?"

Jormungand hesitated, then nodded. "A nervous habit I've picked up, I'm afraid," he confided. "It's . . . not usually this bad," he admitted.

Steve let out a small 'huh,' picking up an oatmeal butterscotch cookie for inspection before taking a bite. "Mmm. Good cookie," he muttered after he'd finished it, going for another. "You know, if you wanted to, you could probably open a bakery," he said, only half-kidding.

Jormungand's brow furrowed. "They're not _that_ good," he muttered, swiping a cookie for himself.

Steve answered him by taking another cookie, biting into it with a raised eyebrow as if saying 'I'm still eating them, aren't I?' and Jormungand flushed, and Steve was about to ask, "why are you nervous?" but Erika bounced into the room, carrying a half-asleep Erik.

"Good morning." She called. "Mmmmm, something smells good!"

Erik immediately perked up at the sight and smell of freshly baked cookies. "_Má ég smáköku_?" he asked, eyeing a pile of chocolate chunk cookies.

"_Auðvitað, kærust, en aðeins einn - þú þarft að rétta morgunverð_," said Jormungand, giving his son a cookie on a napkin. "_Hvað viltu í morgun_?"

Erik sat in his aunt's arms, munching his cookie. "_kanill rúlla_!" he said after a moments' thought.

"Ooh, cinnamon rolls do sound good!" Erika chimed in, and Jormungand gave her a hard look. "What?" she asked innocently.

"Are you the reason my son wants sweets now all the time?" he demanded, eyebrows raised.

Erika returned the look. "Says the guy who baked a million cookies overnight," she shot back. "Your sweet tooth is legendary, don't blame this one on me!"

"Yes, but his eating habits changed _once we moved back in_. _Erik, ég ætla að gera þig sætur rúlla þínum, en þú munt ekki fá neitt sætt með hádegisverði. Viltu enn þá?"_

Erik pouted for about five seconds, but then he nodded, finishing his cookie, and Jormungand got to work baking a big batch of cinnamon rolls while Erika and Steve packed up all the cookies in airtight containers. They were done by the time the others in the Tower woke up, and Erik wasn't the only one excited about having sweet rolls for breakfast.

"Damn, those smell good!" said Clint, perching in a seat by the breakfast bar. "When they gonna be ready?"

"Geez, Bird Brain, impatient much?" asked Tony.

"You're one to talk, Stark," Clint shot back. "You've got no room talking to me about patience!"

"Girls, girls, you're both pretty," said Erika, and Fenrir snorted, leaning on the counter beside Jormungand. "Depends on who you ask," he muttered. "They'd both look terrible in dresses."

Jormungand snorted, not bothering to cover his laughter.

"What are cinnamon rolls?" asked Sliepnir, and Erika grinned.

"You, my friend, are in for a treat," she told the youngest of her brothers. "Especially Jor's cinnamon rolls—they're almost on parr with Hela's French toast!"

Jormungand raised a brow. 'Almost'?"

Erika shrugged, and Hela gave him a smug smile. "I believe the phrase is 'don't hate the player,'" said Hela, and Fenrir's laughter echoed off the walls.

* * *

Loki sat with the Avengers, eating breakfast his son had made, as if nothing had changed. Tony and the Hawk still bickered like children, Dr. Banner and Ms Romanov ate silently, and his children were now speaking about a 'bake-off' between Jormungand and Hela.

Loki watched as Sliepnir tried sweet rolls for the first time, praising his elder brother's cooking. He watched as Fenrir stuffed his face, even giving Jormungand his version of a compliment—a smart-ass remark about him baking as well as any maiden of Asgard, and Jormungand actually recognized it for the compliment it was.

Since his return, he had seen something extraordinary—his children were getting along. They had always been able to stand each other for a time, but he had never seen them as united as they were now.

"It was Grandma," said Erika quietly, sitting between Loki and Tony.

Loki blinked. "What?"

"They all got back together after Grandma died," said Erika, and Loki understood then—their grandmother had died, and they still believed him imprisoned—they came together, because they thought all they had was each other.

"I wanted to go with them, to visit her grave, but someone had to watch Erik," she said.

Loki shook his head minutely. "There is no grave. She was placed in a boat and lit on fire, sent away on the waters surrounding Asgard. Thor said it was a sight to behold."

Erika swallowed. "I think Sliepnir planted a tree somewhere . . . her garden, I think. That's where they went to mourn." She looked down. "I want to see it, but . . . . I can't go there on my own anymore. I don't want to ask any of them to go back, either."

Loki frowned. "You have magic. I've seen you use it."

Erika bit her bottom lip. "Fury has it. Well, I guess Hydra has it, now. I traded it to get Numbskull's One and Two out of trouble.

Loki's frown lightened. "Oh, Child. This Hydra has but a sample of your magics. They cannot take your siedir—the root of your power. You simply have to work to reconnect yourself." Louder, he said, "Jormungand, you will train your sister to reconnect with her magic, yes?"

Jormungand looked up. "Yes, of course," he said without hesitation, and he gave Erika a smile. "Of course, she may not have time for training—she does, after all, have a wedding to plan."

Loki frowned slightly, confused—he didn't want a wedding for him and Tony, and Tony had begrudgingly agreed to just have the necessary papers signed, without the ceremony.

Ah. His son's wedding, then.

Erika frowned slightly. "I do?"

Jormungand raised an eyebrow. "Do you not recall asking to help plan it? I believe your exact words were, 'If you do decide to get married, I want to plan it.'"

". . . . . . I'll be happy to help, but I don't remember saying that. When did we talk about this?"

Jormungand turned his attention back to Steve, but was still speaking to Erika. "Before our first date," he said quietly, smiling slightly.

" . . . . . . Oh. Oh! Right, I remember now! Okay! Yay, my brother's getting _married and I get to help!_ Jeez, this is gonna take a while. I'm gonna google a checklist so I don't forget a single thing!" she said excitedly, rising from her chair and leaving the room. A few seconds later she came back in, went back to the table, picked up her plate of half-finished cinnamon rolls, and exited the room again with the plate in her hand and a forkful of roll halfway to her mouth.

* * *

**A/N: Time to plan a wedding! (and time for some serious googling).**

**Translations using Google Translate****:**

_**Má ég smáköku**_**?**—May I have a cookie?

_**Auðvitað, kærust, en aðeins einn - þú þarft að rétta morgunverð—**_Of course, dearest, but only one—you need a proper breakfast

_**Hvað viltu í morgun**_?—what would you like?

_**kanill rúlla!**_—cinnamon rolls!

_**Erik, ég ætla að gera þig sætur rúlla þínum, en þú munt ekki fá neitt sætt með hádegisverði. Viltu enn þá?**_—Erik, I'll make you your sweet rolls, but you won't get anything sweet with lunch. Do you still want them?


	15. Chapter 15

**It's wedding time!**

**I had to google a wedding planning checklist and follow the appropriate timeline for planning things. This chapter took me a while, but I'm finally happy with it.**

**Erika, Erik, and Erika's siblings belong to me, and the others belong to Marvel and Disney.**

* * *

**12 months before the wedding**

Erika found a checklist and had J.A.R.V.I.S save it to her StarkPad, and she showed it to Jormungand the next day so they could get to work.

The wedding had, obviously, already been announced, and an engagement announcement was placed in the local papers. Erika signed them up for a wedding website, the budget didn't matter (according to her), and she asked one of her school friends, now a wedding planner, to help (with the grooms' permission, of course).

"Did you have a date in mind?" she asked both of them. Steve didn't really have a preference, but Jormungand wanted something in Spring. Steve agreed easily enough, and they worked out a date. A location was chosen and reservations were made for the ceremony and reception site.

The first speed bump was the guest list.

Aside Jormungand's father and siblings, he had no immediate family, and he didn't really have friends.

Steve's family was dead.

"Jeez, you two are morbid," Erika muttered. "How about we focus on who you know who _isn't_ dead, okay?"

"Well, the team, obviously," said Steve. "Bucky and Sam, too, and Phil." He paused, and then looked down at his hands. "I'd say Peggy, but I don't know if she'd be up to the trip."

Jormungand placed his hand over Steve's. "We can still invite her," he said quietly, smiling slightly. "I'm sure she'd love to hear that you're getting married."

Steve smiled back. "Yeah, you're right. She'll probably see it in the papers first, though, so sending an actual invitation would be a good idea. That way she can't yell at me for not telling her."

Steve was referring, of course, to the fact that his and Jormungand's wedding announcement had made Headline News on a global scale, and social media sites were exploding with the news. (Steve could barely keep up with his Twitter on a normal day. Now, he just didn't bother).

"Okay, so that's Peggy, Phil, Natasha, Clint, Dad, Dr. Banner—are we inviting Thor? How do we even contact him?" Erika asked.

Jormungand bristled slightly at the mention of his uncle. "I believe he's staying with Dr. Foster," he said, a slight chill in his voice. "Though if his invitation gets 'lost in the mail,' I certainly won't complain." At the look Steve gave him, he sighed and said. "Fine. Invite the big oaf, for all I care."

"He's a lot smarter than you give him credit for, you know," said Steve.

Jormungand gave Steve a wicked grin. "I know; I just enjoy winding him up," he admitted, and Steve huffed out a small laugh.

Erika laughed outright. "Yeah, pissing him off is funny," she agreed. "So, Thor's coming—he'll probably want to bring Dr. Foster and _his_ friends, too."

Jormungand's expression warmed slightly. "I don't mind if they come—I like the spunky brunette that follows Dr. Foster around," he admitted.

"Okay," said Erika, continuing with the list. "So, The Avengers, Sam and Bucky, and Peggy. Fenrir, Hela, and Sliepnir, obviously, and Mom." She looked at Jormungand. "Any friends from Iceland or Space Viking Land?"

Jormungand raised an eyebrow.

" . . . . . I'll take that as a 'no.' Hey, Jor, what about your mom?"

Jormungand started. "I . . . . . don't know," said Jormungand. "I haven't seen my mother since before my banishment," he admitted quietly. "I'm not sure if she'd even come, especially with Father in attendance."

Erika winced slightly. "Ooh. Right." Jormungand had told her that their mother had severed her ties with Loki and their older children. Her relationship with Loki was . . . . strained, to put it nicely. "Oh-kaaay, no Mama Space Viking. Anyone else?"

They worked on the list for a while longer, then Erika saved the list to her StarkPad.

* * *

"Can there be a Maid of Honor with no bride?" Erika asked later. "Or is it just two best men?"

Jormungand didn't look up from the StarkPad in front of him. "I have no idea, but I want either you or Fenrir, if that helps."

Erika 'hmm'd. "While I'd love to, and I'll totally still be a bridesmaid if you want, I think you should ask Fen."

The next day, Jormungand asked Fenrir, and his brother accepted the role, but said "If you call me a 'maid of honor', I will disembowel you."

* * *

"Hey, Bucky, got a minute?" Steve asked as he came down to one of the training rooms where Bucky was, making sure to loudly announce his arrival so Bucky didn't startle.

Bucky paused in his sparring match with Natasha. "Sure," he said, and made a 'time-out' gesture. "What's up, Steve?"

Steve rubbed the back of his head. "So, Jor's brother is going to be his best man, and I was wondering if you'd want to be mine."

Bucky smirked before snapping his heels together, saluting smartly. "James Buchanan Barnes, at your service!" he cried, and Steve rolled his eyes.

"A simple 'yes' would have done it," he said, giving Bucky a small smile.

Bucky grinned back, and Steve noted that it was the happiest the former Winter Soldier had looked since coming to Manhattan—being around the Avengers was good for him.

* * *

The one part about Jormungand's wedding that Erika did not like was the fact that they were both guys.

Wait, that came out wrong.

The one part about his wedding that Erika did not like was the fact that they weren't going to be able to look at wedding dresses. (Erika had mentioned it as a joke and Jormungand had deadpanned that he looked terrible in lace).

Picking out a tux turned out to be almost just as much fun, though, and they had something for both grooms picked out in no time. They didn't need to order anything until about two to four months before the actual ceremony, but having something picked out made Erika feel better.

"Erik's gonna be such a cute little ring bearer," Erika cooed as she looked at little boy's tuxedos, said boy sitting on the floor beside her and doing what he did best—play with Legos.

When they had first started planning, he had asked what they were doing, and the answer he'd gotten—"We're making Steve your legal Papa"—had satisfied him, so he'd lost interest.

Erika felt bad that she had less time to work on Erik's surprise, but she still did what she could, and she figured everything should be ready—both Erik's surprise _and_ her brother's wedding—within weeks of each other.

* * *

**6-9 months before the wedding**

Since the only other woman Jormungand knew beside his sisters was Natasha, he opted to only have his sisters be 'bridesmaids,' since he still felt uncomfortable around the Black Widow. He left that part of it to Erika and Hela, since they'd be the ones wearing them, and he ended up actually liking what they'd picked out.

Finding an officiant wasn't a problem (Tony knew a guy that owed him a favor—that's all he was going to say).

Finding ceremony musicians, a photographer, and a florist also wasn't a problem. The next snag in the road, however, came with the caterer. Steve didn't want anything too outlandish, while Jormungand was used to grand feasts for celebrations. They came to a compromise (after a long, _long_ argument) and Erika had the caterer booked not long after they settled on what they wanted.

* * *

**8-5 months before the wedding**

"Here, look at this one!" Sliepnir called from across the room, turning it so that Jormungand could get a better view. On the screen was a black and white wedding cake with lilies all over it.

Jormungand 'hmm'd and asked him to bookmark that page, and Sliepnir did so, happy to help his brother in any way he could.

Erika was currently on the phone with a bakery, asking about and taking notes of the different cakes they sold, and she was also scheduling a time for them to come in and sample some of them.

Hela and Sliepnir both found other cake ideas, and they were bookmarked as well.

All of the wedding guests would be staying I Stark Tower, of course—there were two whole floors with nothing BUT spare rooms, and Tony was more than happy to house everyone who could make it. He also arranged transportation to and from the tower to the ceremony.

Steve had Tony help him with reserving a hotel for the honeymoon. He wouldn't tell Jormungand where they were going—he said it was a surprise.

* * *

**2-4 months before the wedding**

Jormungand was not fond of needles. He was even less fond of the fact that he might have to give blood in order to obtain a marriage license (He wasn't exactly _human_, after all, and his blood would raise questions).

He was beyond relieved when he found out that New York marriages only required you give blood if you were Hispanic or African-American, and as he and Steven were, as his sister said it, 'white boys,' there would be no blood tests. Thank the Norns.

The tuxedos were ordered and Erika went with Jormungand to speak with the caterer, and that was when Erika learned that Jormungand and Steve had agreed on a dry reception—no alcohol whatsoever.

"Wonder if Dad knows that," Erika said after she found that out.

"He does," said Jormungand.

"He'll probably sneak it in."

"I know."

"That doesn't bother you?"

"No."

"Okay, then."

* * *

"Here, you'll like this one," Erika said to Jormungand as they sat in a bakery trying different cake samples.

Jormungand took a bite of a cake slice that was reddish brown with white frosting. "Mmm. What is this?" he asked after swallowing.

"Red velvet cake with buttercream frosting," said Erika instantly. "Like it?"

Jormungand nodded, taking another bite.

"Okay, red velvet and buttercream it is! Got a certain design for the outside in mind, or should they just surprise you?" Before Jormungand could answer, though, she said, "Ooh, wait! I need paper and a pencil! I have an idea!"

Raising an eyebrow, Jormungand handed over the notepad and pencil they'd brought with them. Within minutes she had a quick drawing of a seven-tier cake with vines and flowers covering all but the bottom tier. "So, I'm thinking a pale green for the fondant, with the vines and flowers being gold. On the bottom tier, we can put yours and Steve's vows in gold, but write them in runes, and they'd go all the way around, one above the other." She looked up from the paper. "Unless you want had something else in mind, then we can totally forget my idea."

Jormungand gave her a fond smile after glancing at the drawing. "When Steven began courting me, I said that you could plan the wedding. I meant it, Little Sister—whatever you think best is what we'll do."

Erika bit her bottom lip. "Well, yeah, but it's _your_ wedding."

Jormungand 'hmm'd. "Tell you what—you work with them on the cake, if you let me make a few minor tweaks to the floral arrangements."

Erika grinned. "Deal! So, that's a red velvet and buttercream cake with green fondant, gold flowers, and gold wedding vows—probably a traditional one, since you guys are writing your own and I have no idea what Steve's writing for his."

Jormungand hesitated before turning to a fresh page on the notepad and picking up the pencil. "Steven doesn't have to, but I want to recite this after my own vows."

Erika pulled the paper towards her and read silently. "Wow. That's really sweet. Where did you get this?"

Jormungand ducked his head. "I'm unfamiliar with wedding customs, so I may have googled several things related to weddings—that's the one set of vows I found that I felt I could say to him and mean every word."

"Aww, that's adorable," Erika gushed.

"Don't make me regret letting you help me."

* * *

Steve was in charge of wedding rings, and he had them picked out in no time. When he was asked if he wanted them engraved, thought for a moment, then nodded and wrote something down on a piece of paper.

"She's a lucky girl," the young woman behind the counter said with a smile, and Steve couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him.

"You don't read a lot of news, do you?" he asked.

She gave him a small smile. "Nah, too much politic. I'm kind of a hermit. Why?"

Steve smiled slowly and shook his head. "No reason."

She squinted at him. "You know, you look an awful lot like that Captain America dude. My sister won't shut up about him—did you know he's getting married, too?"

Steve raise an eyebrow. "Really? Small world."

"Yeah, no kidding. So, when do you need these bad boys?"

* * *

**1-2 months before the wedding**

_**A small town in New Maxico**_

Thor and Jane were making breakfast when the mail came.

"Hey, Thor, you got a letter!" Darcy called from the front door of their newly renovated lab/home. "It's from New York!" She brought the mail in the kitchen and handed the Thunder God a surprisingly thick envelope with a wax seal.

Thor studied the envelope before opening it and pulling out a thick card of parchment.

"What is it?" Jane asked, peering at the loopy handwriting.

"A wedding announcement," said Thor quietly. "My nephew's getting married."

Thor and Jormungand had never quite seen eye to eye (that was probably because of the Ragnarok prophecy and the fact that they were destined to kill each other). Still, something akin to pride swelled within Thor's chest.

He was happy for his nephew.

"My friends, will you accompany me to his ceremony?" Thor asked his new family.

"Of course," said Jane. "I'd love to—I don't think I've ever met your nephew—or any of your family, really. Well, besides your parents. And your brother," she added.

Thor looked at Eric, who gave him a thumbs up, then to Darcy, who shrugged and said, "Sure, why not?"

Thor filled out the return card and set it aside to go in the mail in the morning, and then their breakfast preparations continued.

* * *

_**Washington, DC**_

Peggy rarely ever got mail anymore, so the letter was a bit of a surprise. She flipped the surprisingly heavy envelope over to look at the wax seal stamped with a serpent over a shield, then looked back at the return address.

Who did she know that lived in Manhattan?

With great care, Peggy pried open the envelope and slid out a heavy parchment card. The words on it were hand-written in elegant, looping handwriting, and as she read it she began to tear up.

'It's about time,' she thought s she filled out the return card. On Steven's last visit, Peggy had asked about his new lover, and he'd said that they weren't together anymore—he'd looked absolutely heartbroken. It was good to see that they had worked things out.

* * *

**2 weeks to 1 month before the wedding**

The seating charts were one of the easiest things they had to do. There were only about thirty or so people that had RSVP'd, and Erika had suggested they leave about ten or so open seats for anyone unexpected.

He didn't know that this was because Erika had (with the help of her returning magic) taken a trip to Asgard and had convinced a certain someone to attend the ceremony (and boy, did she hope Jor liked the surprise).

Final preperations with the caterer and florist were made, and the decorations were given a once-over. The ceremony and reception song lists and music were finalized, and Erika introduced Jormungand to a few of her school friends, who were part of their own string quartet and were more than happy to perform.

* * *

**1 week before the wedding**

"Wow, that looks good on you," said Erika as Jormungand tried on his tuxedo—white with a green vest and tie, and it did look pretty good on him.

"You really do look good," she said again as he studied himself in the full-length mirror after he'd muttered "Too pale," quietly. "You look fine, and Steve's not gonna be able to look away."

Much to his embarrassment, Erika asked if he needed any help packing for his honeymoon, and he gently told her that no, he didn't need help and yes, he could do it on his own.

* * *

**The day before the wedding**

Jormungand hadn't told Steve that Peggy had RSVP'd, so the groom was completely floored when the 'bride' wheeled her into Stark Tower in a wheelchair.

"Peggy," he breathed. "You—holy cow, you made it!" he said happily, rushing forward. "I didn't think—" He looked at Jormungand and narrowed his eyes. "_Someone_ didn't tell me you'd gotten the invitation."

Jormungand gave him a sheepish smile. "Surprise?" he said hesitantly, his voice raising at the end.

Steve sighed, then his irritation melted away. "Come on, Peg, let's get you settled," he sighed, and he gave Jormungand a Look that promised the shorter man that he would pay for this.

Jormungand felt a chill go up his spine and grinned, showing off his too sharp teeth.

Erika found them soon after, and insisted Jormungand come out with her to take a yoga class and have lunch, then come with her to get their hair done for the rehearsal dinner.

At said dinner, they finally got a good look at who would be attending the ceremony, which, as they had already come to the conclusion, was not a lot. The Avengers were there, as were Steve's friends (Former S.H.I.E.L.D agents and a few others. His somewhat friend and former neighbor Kate even made it) and Thor's new friends. Agents Hill and Coulson showed up, as well as Coulson's new team.

The few people Jormungand had invited that he'd met in Iceland had also come, much to his surprise, but he welcomed them nonetheless. They all greeted him warmly and gave Erik little hugs and pats on the head, which the boy loved (He'd become a regular attention whore, thanks to Erika).

The dinner was going well, and Jormungand thought now was as good of a time as any to start the toasts, so he stood up and took a deep breath, and he got the small crowd's attention.

"My family isn't exactly the most normal one around, and my life has been . . . . . odd. I've been mostly an outcast for most of my life, and I honestly never thought I'd find that one person to share the rest of my life with. But then, this wonderful man came crashing into my life, and he's had my heart since I met him . . . . . even if I didn't have his. I'm a patient man, however, and I'm glad, because I never would have forgiven myself if I let him walk out of my life for good." He looked at Steve, then. "Erik and I are both thrilled to have you in our life, and we hope you'll be there for a long, long time."

Several other toasts followed, and then their food came.

Steve held Jormungand's hand throughout the entire dinner.

* * *

**The wedding day**

The Big Day was finally here, and everything looked great. It was an outdoor ceremony and reception, and there were blue, green, silver and gold flowers _everywhere_. The cake looked good, too—seven tiers with pale green fondant and gold flowers on six of the tiers, and gold runes around the bottom tier. On the top stood a hollow crystal heart with a smaller heart hanging from it, Steve and Jormungand's names and the date engraved on it.

"I'm going to be sick," Jormungand muttered as he waited for the music to cue him to start down the aisle.

"You'll be fine," said Erika, smoothing down her emerald green dress. Hela did the same, and they both gave Jormungand reassuring smiles.

The music started and Jormungand paled. "I can't do this," he wheezed, taking a step back. He started when Loki touched his shoulder.

"You'll be fine, Child," said his father. "Now, come—time to make your grand entrance."

Erika and Hela went out first, then Jormungand was led out by Loki, and when he saw Steve his heartbeat sped up.

He looked _wonderful._

Jormungand was dry-mouthed as Loki gave away his second-eldest, and he couldn't stop staring at Steve throughout the Minister's words.

He was startled out of his trance when Steve started speaking.

"I'm not good with words. On the battlefield, it's different—I'm able to lead my team to victory, and I know they all look to me for direction. Off of that field, though, I usually say things that make people want to hit me. On our first date, I thought for sure I would say something wrong, and you would dump my dinner on my head and walk out, and I'm really glad you didn't. I know what my life would be like without you, and I never want to go through that again.

"I, Steve Rogers, take you, Jormungand Lokison, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life."

Steve gave him a warm smile.

Jormungand swallowed, willing his voice not to crack as he began his own vows.

"I inherited my father's nickname of 'Silvertongue'—I've always managed to say exactly what needs to be said. With you, though, it's different. I'm not always able to, ah, persuade you that I'm right, and . . . I think that's a good thing. Like I've said before, I was an outcast for most of my life, and I never thought I'd find The One. I have, though, and I'm glad I did. I love you, Steven, with all that I am.

"I, Jormungand Lokison, take you, Steven Rogers, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold you, to honor you, to treasure you, to be at your side in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish you always. I promise you this from my heart, for all the days of my life."

He didn't hear what the minister said after that, but then it didn't matter because Steven was kissing him, and he was pouring his heart and soul into that kiss, so Jormungand returned the kiss with just as much love and eagerness. They parted, and people were applauding, but all Jormungand saw was his husband.

* * *

Dancing was not Steve's forte.

He'd tried to explain this at the very beginning, but everyone had just said 'practice makes perfect.'

"Sorry if I step on your feet," he said to his new husband quietly as they stood in the center of a patch of grass, waiting for the music to start. Westlife's 'Beautiful in White' was soon heard in a beautiful string quartet rendition, and Steve wondered if this is why Erika had insisted her brother wear white.

They moved slowly, neither one of them very confident at first, but then the rest of the world narrowed to just the two of them and it didn't matter how horrible Steve was or how nervous Jormungand was.

It was just the two of them, until death do they part.

After their first dance, Erika told Jormungand she had a surprise for him, and she led him over to a table where a beautiful brunette woman in a blue dress sat.

Jormungand's breath caught in his throat.

" . . . . . Mother?"

The woman stood up and approached Jormungand, a hesitant smile pulling the corners of her mouth. "My Jormungand," she said in a melodious voice. "My precious boy," she sighed, reaching out to cradle his cheek. "Look at how you've grown."

Jormungand swallowed and reached up to grab her hand. "Mother, how did you—" He looked from his mother to Erika.

"I thought you'd like to see your mom on your wedding day," Erika said quietly. "And I really hope I was right, because if not then I'm really sorry."

Jormungand looked back at his mother. "How in the worlds did she convince you to come?" he asked thickly.

Jormungand's mother smiled at him. "My quarrel is with your father—If the price of seeing you is seeing him, so be it." She looked past Jormungand to where Loki was sitting with Tony. "I'm glad he's found happiness," she said sadly, then more cheerful, she said to her son, "I'm glad _you_ have found happiness."

Jormungand gave his mother a tight hug, then he reached out for Steve's hand. "Mother, this is Steven. Steven, this is my mother Angrboda."

Angrboda offered Steve her hand, and he kissed the back of it. "Ma'am," said Steve, giving her a charming smile.

Jormungand gave Erika a look as Steve was laying the charm on his mother. "How in all the Realms did you find her?"

Erika shrugged. "I tried Asgard first, but then everyone told me she was from Jotenheim, so then I went there, and holy cow is that place cold! You know, the weirdest thing happened when I went there—your mom touched me and I turned blue! It was weird. Anyway, long story short, I managed to get her down here with almost no hassle!"

Jormungand blinked. "My mother swore an oath never to see my father again, and you managed to bring her to where she would be within twenty feet of him." He smiled and shook his head. "You truly are one of us."

Erika beamed.

* * *

**A/N: Man, this was fun to write!**

**This concludes the first half (or part, or whatever) of Still not easy. The next part will be focusing a lot more on Erika and Tony and their relationship, with a snarky Hammer brat and Dr Doom thrown in the mix.**


End file.
